Living Without Alex
by Jazzola
Summary: Sequel to Living Without Gene- a police conference takes Alex to Belfast for five days, leaving Gene to be sole caregiver to Molly. He can cope with armed blaggers, gory murders and the press... but can the Manc Lion deal with a teenage girl? Galex.
1. Off to Belfast

A/N: This is the much-awaited (lol) sequel to Living Without Gene. I just hope people like it, and it lives up to the standard I set before... which probably wasn't great. But you never know. I hope you enjoy it! Thanks to all the people who ordered me to write a sequel for Living Without Gene, although some of you were a little scary... ah well. Hopefully this'll placate you. Jazzola :)

* * *

"Bolls, yer ready? Train's leavin' in 'alf an hour, an yer need ter be on it, I'm not drivin' yer ter Belfast!"

"Ready!" Alex Drake yelled down the hallway, dragging a suitcase and a handbag down the stairs and hurriedly repairing her mangled perm in the hallway mirror as Molly helped to get the suitcase into the boot of the Quattro. Gene raised his eyebrows at her as they plonked it in, making Molly laugh as her mother came out to enquire whether she'd packed enough.

"Yeah, I think so, Bolls," Gene replied hastily, trying to keep a grin off his own face. _What's wrong wi' me? Smilin' all over the place these days. They'll 'ave me in the loony bin if I don't do somethin' about it._

The truth was, Gene Hunt was happier than he had been for many, many years, maybe even ever. He had his wonderful, bolshy, posh, clever DI living with him, and her daughter Molly, who had caused more tsunamis than ripples when she had arrived in CID but had settled in fine to her new life. He shook his head at himself. Sometimes he wondered where exactly Alex and Molly had come from, to make life in 1983's London so strange to them.

"Earth to Planet Hunt?"

Gene realised he'd been staring into space. Molly and Alex were standing beside the Quattro watching him, identical quizzical expressions on their faces; he had to stop himself from laughing out loud at the sight.

"Er, sorry. Yer sure yer've got everythin'?"

"Certain, Gene. If I've left anything you can always bring it up," Alex teased, wrapping her arms round Gene's waist and kissing him full on the lips. Molly, behind her, made a gagging noise and pointedly looked away.

"Oi, cheeky," Alex half-scolded, half-laughed, giving Molly a mock slap on the back of the head. "If you don't want to watch us kissing, then make yourself useful and get me some toast. I'll have to eat breakfast in the Quattro."

"Yer not eatin' in my Quattro!" Gene protested, fixing her with a frown. Alex smiled.

"You smoke, drink and eat in the Quattro, Gene, so you can't talk."

Gene, defeated, skulked back into the house to do one final look-round for anything essential of Alex's, not that he really knew what she found essential. A flash of pink under the radiator in the lounge caught his eye, and he grinned, remembering the hot night before and the reason behind Alex's slight lack of punctuality; even just looking at the scrap of lace lying innocently on the carpet was almost enough to give him a hard-on.

"Gene, we need to go!" Molly's voice called from outside, rousing him from his X-rated thoughts. Grinning surreptitiously to himself, Gene dropped the knickers behind the sofa and collected up the Quattro keys, heading out to the gleaming red beast on the front drive.

* * *

"Five days, Gene. Are you sure you and Molly will be fine?"

"I've looked after myself fer a few years, Bolls. 'Andlin' Molly can't be that 'ard compared ter 'andlin' yer, can it?"

Alex laughed, reaching up and kissing Gene on the lips, sweeping Molly up for a huge cuddle as the train drew in, wiping tears away as she picked up her luggage and began to board, grasping Gene's hand one more time, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek as the conductor's whistle blew.

"Stay safe, don't do anything heroic or stupid, look after the two of you, remember things that need to be done, and don't swear within earshot of Molls!"

Gene, rolling his eyes at Molly, nodded and waved back as the train drew out of the station, Alex wiping tears from her face as the two people she treasured most in the world drew out of sight.

"Gene?"

"Yeah?"

He looked down to see Molly's eyes sparkling with tears but mischief in their depths, a strange and very Molly-like mix.

"Now that Mum isn't around to tell you to drive the Quattro slowly, can we go fast on the way back?"

Gene laughed, a rare full laugh that made a couple of people stop and look round at him, smiles slipping onto a couple of other faces. Molly's own smile grew. _For a man who doesn't laugh very much, his laugh is so contagious!_

"Only as fast as is safe, Molls."

"You sound like Mum, being all cautious all the time," Molly said slyly, fixing Gene with her best stare, knowing exactly which strings to twang to get her way with the Manc Lion. Gene stiffened.

"No I don'."

"Yes you do."

"I'm jus'... lookin' out fer yer."

Molly smiled, wrapping both of her arms round one of his, giving him her best little-girly pout.

"Just a little, once we're on the dual carriageway?"

Gene felt his resolve melting under her gaze, sighing as he came to the inevitable conclusion that he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer.

"Jus' a little, an' only when we've got enough space."

Molly squealed and hugged him fully, burying her face in his stomach as he gently unhinged his arm to get the Quattro keys out of his pocket, opening the door for her and grinning as she leapt in and pulled the sun-visor down, flipping the mirror open to get a good look at herself in it, correcting a stray loop of hair and giving herself a winning smile. She didn't intend to try that same trick too many times- she knew Gene wouldn't soften if it was important- but it was fun while she could.

Gene's foot slammed onto the accelerator and the Quattro surged forwards, Molly whooping in the front seat as the bright red beast joined the traffic. Slowing to allow other vehicles some semblance of safety, Gene let his mind wander onto the issue at hand: he would be looking after Molly for five days, during which time he had to cook meals, keep the house somewhat in order, and organise for someone to look after Molly if he couldn't. All without putting himself in hospital with a stress-induced anaphylactic shock.

It was going to be a long, long week...

* * *

A/N: Sooo... tell me what you think, and whether I should continue! Hope people like it, and please, please remember to review! Thanks muchly! Jazzola :)


	2. The School Run

"Gene, I'm going to be late! Gene!"

Gene's eyes snapped open as he realised that the alarm clock, which was invariably set by Alex, had failed to do its God-forsaken duty and wake him up. In front of him was Molly, her eyes wide, tapping her watch in a very Alex-like gesture and turning away as he leapt out of bed and grabbed some clothes, grabbing the Quattro keys on his way out.

"Bloody 'ell," he muttered as his eyes caught the time on the kitchen clock: 8:55. School started at nine and was ten minutes away.

The Quattro gleamed at him through the window, as if to say, _But you can do it faster, Gene..._

"No, I promised Alex," he thought firmly, deliberately turning away from the window and ushering Molly out through the front door. "I'll just explain to the school."

_But she wants to get there on time... Come on, Gene, just a couple more miles an hour..._

Gene groaned. One day without Alex and he was already beginning to take on the role of resident nut job in the household.

"I need to get there on time, Gene!" Molly whimpered, pushing her seat-belt in and fixing him with a stare. Gene sighed.

"Yeah, alright, Molly-Kecks. 'Old on."

The Quattro burst out of the drive as Gene slammed his foot onto the metal, Molly grabbing the door but a grin blooming on her face as the outside world began to blur.

_Bolls would kill me if she could see me now..._

* * *

The Quattro slewed to a halt outside Molly's school just as the bell rang and the congregation began; cheeks bright pink with exhilaration, Molly clambered out from the front seat and turned to give Gene a brief hug.

"Bye, Gene! Remember to pick me up, stay safe," she murmured to him before she was running over to her friends, grinning as two girls turned and threaded Molly's arms through theirs in unison. Gene watched her, a small smile on his face, a little wistful; what he wouldn't have given at school to just be someone like her, a friendly face, rather than the boy who always felt he had to prove himself to everyone and behaved as such. Yes, everyone had feared him, yes, everyone had followed him as a leader, but real mates had been thin on the ground.

Shaking himself out from his thoughts, he drew off, heading towards CID, already knowing that it was going to be a long day without a nice arse to stare at.

* * *

"Hunt?"

"Gene! How're you doing? How's Molly?"

"Fine, Bolls, fine. An' you? 'Ow's Belfast?"

"It's better than I thought it would be, but the ferry crossing was hell, I thought I'd be sick about twice a minute."

Gene smiled on the other side of the phone, curling the phone cord in his fingers absent-mindedly as he leaned back in his chair, the shutters of his office semi-drawn and throwing his face into blunt relief. Shaz raised her head to peek through the window and smiled to herself, turning back to her typewriter with the memory of the Guv's bright smile in her mind.

"Well, yer there now, an' 'opefully the gods o' police conferences will grant yer a calmer crossin' back."

"Maybe. I'll give them a sacrifice later today."

Gene laughed softly, hearing the smile in Alex's voice and feeling a heart-string almost snap in two from being twanged so much.

"How was the school run this morning?"

"Little 'ectic, but we managed."

He decided to omit the frantic driving, the narrow miss with the lorry, the moment when they both thought they were going to plough into a roundabout and the taking-out of a stack of (thankfully empty) cardboard boxes outside a shop. As his slightly guilty mind reasoned, Alex didn't need to know the minor details.

"Good," Alex said, sounding suspicious. "You need to set off to get her in about ten minutes. Don't speed, make sure she has something with vegetables for her tea, and don't let her stay up past nine, OK? She's a growing girl, she needs her sleep."

"Yes, Mam."

"I'm serious, Gene."

"I know."

"This is your arse on the line, Gene Hunt. I will be interviewing both you and Molly when I get back, so make sure you do as I ask."

Gene gulped slightly, imagining Alex's wrath if everything went balls-up and making a mental note to bribe Molly into saying nothing upon Alex's return.

"I'd better go pick 'Er Ladyship up from school, Bolls."

"OK, fine. I'll call home again this evening, we've got free phoning here."

"Talk later then, Bolls."

"Bye."

They rang off, each instantly missing each other's voice, the presence of the other, however far away they might be.

Gene shrugged the feeling off, stomping out through the office and notifying the congregation of CID that he was going on an errand. As much as he loved Molly, he wasn't quite ready to start announcing that he was off picking her up from school like a poofter.

* * *

A/N: I hope you like it! More soon, and Happy New Year :) Please remember to review! Jazzola :)


	3. A Close Shave

A/N: And now you lot will find out exactly why Molly is back in 1983... so read on for some solutions to some problems that never existed :P Hope you enjoy! Oh, and this is dedicated to my best friend's springer spaniel, who is currently recovering from complications during an operation on her knee- get better soon, special girly. Jazzola :)

* * *

"What do yer want fer dinner, Molls?" Gene asked as the Quattro drew out from the school gates, Molly perched in the passenger seat once again and Gene trying to keep his speed reasonable as they headed home. Molly cocked her head to one side, beginning to consider; Gene never understood why Alex always winced when she did that, having no clue about her memories from her final day in 2008.

"Pizza from Luigi's?"

"Fine, we'll go by Luigi's, but not when the team's in there, they can get rowdy an' yer mum would stick a fire poker up my, er, rear if she found out."

Molly giggled, bracing herself against the dashboard as Gene took a corner slightly too fast. She never wore her seatbelt when it was just her and Gene, loving the sense of adventure, the rollercoaster that Gene could make a normal trip to the shops or home into. It made her blood fizz each time, and Gene had never crashed or even scratched the Quattro, so she knew she was in capable hands.

"Yer gonna 'ave ter 'ave some veg as well, or somethin' like that," Gene added as they swung off a roundabout, swooping past a black BMW, who beeped ferociously at them for daring to come too close to the car. Molly stuck her tongue out at them in the rear-view mirror and Gene tapped her arm, trying not to smile at how much Molly was like her mother but less afraid to show how she felt.

"Why?"

"Because yer mother said so."

Molly turned and batted her eyelashes at Gene, reaching out to put her hand on his arm and get some of his attention. Gene kept his eyes firmly on the road, wondering if Molly really knew how dangerous it was to do something like that while he was on a dual carriageway. Molly pouted and settled back in her seat, beginning to frost over.

Gene snuck a sideways look at her and saw the storm clouds covering her face. _She thinks I'm a soft touch. Not gonna 'appen, Molls. Sorry. I gotta play by the rules or yer mum'll 'ave my bollocks fer meatballs when she gets back._

The Quattro swerved sideways so suddenly Gene nearly crashed; bringing the machine to a gentle crawl on the verge, Gene looked out to examine the wheels and sighed as he saw the front right tyre was punctured, flapping uselessly around the wheel as the Quattro eventually stopped.

"What is it, Gene?" Molly asked, forgetting about the argument, her face white from the shock of the sudden stop. Gene shook his head.

"Nothin' serious, Molly. Just a puncture. Stay in 'ere an' I'll sort it out, got a spare in the boot."

He eased his door open, stepping out and hurrying back towards the boot to retrieve the spare wheel and the jack, his long coat whipping around his legs in the wind as he headed round to change the wheel.

Molly watched him walking across the bonnet, checking both ways to make sure that he would be safe changing the wheel here before stepping out onto the tarmac and beginning to jack the car up, sheltered by their visibility and the gap between the Quattro's wheel and the road itself. He put the spare wheel down to get both hands free for the exchange.

In a flash of dark red paint and glaring steel, Gene vanished from view as a lorry slewed to a stop several metres away.

Molly screamed, flinging the car door open and running straight out, seeing Gene lying in the road beside the lorry but struggling up onto his elbows, dazed but mercifully unharmed. The mangled spare wheel sat a few yards to his right, completely destroyed, little more than a misshapen lump of metal and rubber.

"GENE!"

In a second, Molly was crouched next to him, hugging him so hard she was winding herself, gasping with sobs of terror and relief and shock, feeling him grasping her back and letting her bury her face in his shoulder, her tears soaking into his shirt as he rocked her gently in his arms, his hands stroking up and down her arms and back, soothing and careful and gentle, swooping down to pick her up and press a kiss to her forehead as she lost all semblance of control and simply shrieked into his chest. She could hear the lorry driver saying something and Gene replying angrily, one hand motioning to the crushed wheel and then to himself and the girl clutching his body, but blanked it out, concentrating on the rumble of Gene's voice through his skin and the warmth of his flesh against her clothes, the solidness of him beneath her arms.

Just for a second, it had been like losing her mother all over again.

* * *

_"Be careful with her. This kind of thing is never easy."_

_The look on the doctor's face, along with those words she wasn't meant to overhear, were enough for her. Alex Drake was dead._

_Molly simply stood up and faced the small troupe of doctors in front of her, one comforting Evan as his pale face crumpled in front of his one remaining god-daughter, another beginning to speak to her. She cut him off._

_"You've lost her. So I've lost her too. My Mummy's gone. I know what you're going to say."_

_The doctor bowed his head, one to his side reaching out to touch Molly's arm. She shrugged her off. There was only one woman she wanted to be touching her right now, and she would never reach out to her daughter again._

_"I'm going to go for a walk."_

_And then, as soon as she turned the corner, she began running, her feet pummelling the tacky flooring as she sprinted towards the entrance, throwing the doors open around her, not pausing for one second to think what she was doing._

_Her mother was gone. Her smiling face swam in Molly's mind's eye, her last words and her kiss and her scent and the feel of her skin all mixed together in Molly's screaming heart as she began to realise that Alex Drake was, for ever, lost to her._

_And then she just crouched in the middle of the road and shrieked, yelled, sobbed and screeched, her fists slamming into the road surface, the truck approaching her completely oblivious._

"Gene!"

Molly cried out as she woke, grasping at the duvet, grabbing at the hands that were suddenly picking her up and holding her like a little child, calming her as Gene's deep voice assured her that she was safe, he was here, it had all been a dream.

Only it hadn't. Molly smiled through her tears, beginning to relax as Gene stroked her hair back and sat down on the bed with her, wrapping her in her Bananarama duvet cover and holding her safely in his arms.

That truck driver had been the kindest person to Molly possible in 2008.


	4. Night, Dad

"Gene!"

As soon as Molly had shrieked from her bedroom, Gene had been running through to hold her, whispering reassurance as he wrapped her up in warmth and safety, his hands a little haven for the girl as she fell asleep on his lap, her head nuzzled into the base of his neck. He hadn't been able to sleep before that; every time his eyes closed he heard the low rumble of tyres approaching him, inches from his body, the air slamming into him and toppling him like a domino as brakes cawed shrilly all around him, the repulsive cry of metal being crushed making the din into a deathly duet. And each time he would wake with a shudder, his own arms jerking out to hold a Molly who wasn't there. But of course he didn't tell her that. The Manc Lion didn't get scared about a mere near miss, and he certainly didn't have nightmares.

At least, that was what he told himself as he snuck back through to his room, leaving Molly to sleep peacefully, seeing the picture of himself and Alex on the windowsill and giving a small smile. She would've noticed the bruises on his back and the chewed-up skin on his knees by now; he almost missed her not being there to mother him. He glimpsed the Quattro on the drive outside, looking forlorn. He'd get a new wheel tomorrow: tonight he'd had to be there for Molly.

The clock on the table, which he'd figured out how to set the alarm on, told him sternly that it was two in the morning. He'd have to get up in five hours and begin another day of being her caregiver.

So far he'd done a pretty crap job. Made her late for school, had an argument with her, almost got himself killed in front of her. A little lead weight of hopelessness sank into his stomach as he thought of her sobbing form clutching him by the side of the road, his whole body hurting as the lorry driver got out to check he was OK. _Blind git. _But Gene had been the one stupid enough to try and change the wheel next to a dual carriageway.

_I was a good metre and a half away from the road. And clearly visible. The Quattro isn't exactly bloody inconspicuous!_

And yet it made no difference. Every time Gene thought about the incident, he blamed himself. He'd nearly got himself hurt and marooned Molly in a screwed-up world on her own. He sat down on the edge of the bed with a huff, letting himself fall back and ignoring the pain in his back.

"Gene?"

A timid voice from the doorway made him look round. Molly was stood there, her hands clutching her pillow, her eyes large and beguiling in the dim light from the window.

"Molls? Why aren't yer in bed?"

Molly didn't reply, just walked over and snuggled down next to him, winding her arms round him as if to shield him from the world outside, just as he had done for her. Gene let her, pulling her up to rest her head on the pillows on Alex's side of the bed; she shifted her head to lie on his chest instead, breathing in his scent, the smells that had come to mean safety and paternal love to her, snuggling up in Alex's duvet. Gene shifted his own duvet up onto himself, nestling down into the mattress, feeling its softness beginning to soothe his aches and pains and Molly's warm body snuggled against his.

"Night, Molls," he said softly, thinking she wouldn't hear, stroking her hair back with his free hand.

"Night, Dad," Molly murmured as she drifted off into sleep, safe beside one of the two people in this world who really meant reassurance to her.

Gene's eyes snapped open as he turned to stare at the young girl sleeping beside him, blissfully oblivious to his surprise. Had she just called him... Dad?

Molly smiled into his shoulder as if to confirm his thoughts.

_She's 'alf asleep, she didn' mean it. Doesn' know what she's sayin'. 'Er real dad's a long way away, she's just not aware o' wha' she's sayin'._

But nevertheless, the old icy heart in the Manc Lion's chest thawed considerably as he fell asleep next to Molly, snuggled up with the teenager he knew he loved every bit as much as her mother.

* * *

In Belfast, Alex was worried.

Gene hadn't phoned her since the brief call to his office that day, to spur him into going and picking Molly up and find out how the two of them were. She'd made Gene promise on the day of her departure that he'd phone every evening, at about eight, to give her a brief overview of the day and let her speak to Molly (who she missed fiercely) for a few minutes, but there hadn't been a thing from him today and she couldn't sleep.

"They wouldn't be awake at two in the morning, Alex, there's no point ringing," she told herself, eyeing the phone on her bedside table. The swanky hotel she was staying in was certainly deluxe for 1983, although it didn't have a patch on her own home; that said, she wished she could take the butler home with her, but the hotel wouldn't be too happy about that. She giggled into her pillows, but the mirth turned once again into anxiety as the phone flashed in the moonlight.

Ring them? Risk waking the famously not-morning-person Gene up? Or stay here with unease festering in the pit of her stomach?

Her fingers had grasped the handset and dialled her home number before she fully registered what she was doing.

Five rings in and she wondered if anyone was ever going to pick up; her hand was hovering over the receiver when Gene's groggy voice finally came through.

"'Ello?"

"Gene, it's me. I'm sorry for ringing this early, but you didn't ring me and I was- I was just worried."

"Don' worry about it, Bolls. An' we were gettin' a lift 'ome, we 'ad, er, an incident on the way back."

"An incident?"

Alex gripped the handset so tightly Gene's voice went crackly for a second before she loosed her grip.

"The Quattro 'ad a puncture on a dual carriageway, I got out ter change it an' got taken out by a lorry. They crushed the spare wheel an' knocked me over, Molls was fine, she was in the car. We 'ad ter get a lift back but 'ad ter stay wi' the Quattro until the recovery service came an' so someone 'ad ter stay with it ter keep it safe while we went an' rang someone, so we didn' get 'ome till nine 'cos o' the bloody recovery idiots pissin' about."

"Are you OK?"

"Cuts an' bruises. Molly was worse off, screamin' like a demented thin', she thought I was dead."

Alex's heart went out to her daughter; she could well imagine how terrified Molly would be of losing Gene. A familiar splinter of remembered agony went through her as she remembered the months of pain when she'd lost him; from the silence on the other end, it seemed Gene was having the same thoughts.

"OK. I'll be home soon, remember.

"Phew. I'm not cut out fer this lookin'-after-kids thing."

Alex smiled to herself. Part of volunteering for this summit had been to show Gene how good a parent he really wad to Molly. Her plan would work, she was sure of it- and no stupid lorry driver would muck it up.

As they quietly said goodbye, both returning to their respective beds, both of their hearts ached.

* * *

A/N: Bit longer than I intended, but hey ho... thanks for reading, and please remember to review. Ooh, Mum's cooking quiche and chips! *drools all over keyboard* Damnit... Jazzola :)


	5. Weekend Approaching

A/N: Just to say, my replacement writing computer has arrived, sans my word processor, and my Sims 3 has messed up the computer with all my documents and word processor, so I might need time to get both running before any more updates. Also, I couldn't resist putting in a line for Gene from Philip Glenister's performance in Calendar Girls :P Hope you enjoy, and please review! Jazzola :)

* * *

Five hours later and a very tired Gene Hunt and Molly Drake were eating breakfast in the Quattro outside the house, toast crumbs making a new carpet as Molly wiped them away from her cheeks and brushed a few from her sleeves. Gene surreptitiously checked that he didn't have butter on his face in the mirror, earning himself a grin from Molly.

"You're vainer than most of the girls at my school!"

Gene poked her gently in the side.

"Well, someone as 'andsome as my very good self 'as ter keep their reputation intact, Miss Drake. An' yer 'ave ter get ter school on time, so finish up an' we'll get goin'."

He watched her as she finished up the last crust of her toast, licking the jam off first and then munching the bread, just like her mother. Day two and he was already beginning to think longingly of his DI; what would he be like by the time she came home? He had a sudden mental image of a dank gravestone in the local graveyard reading "R.I.P. GENE HUNT, DIED FROM OVERDOSE OF PARENTAL RESPONSIBILITY". Sighing to himself, he shifted the car into gear and slid off the drive, much slower than usual; Molly quietly missed the rapid-pursuit driving, but knew that they were both still shaken from yesterday- better they keep the speed to a minimum just for a while.

Upon arrival at CID, Gene was besieged with questions about where he'd been yesterday; one of the DCs had seen the Quattro being winched up and Gene's bloodstained clothes, Molly still in tears as she held onto Gene's hand like a little girl. Gene gave them a minimalistic version of events.

"Got 'is details an' insurance stuff. Could've been worse, 'e might've scratched the paintwork, then 'is bollocks would be makin' their way through some rabid animal's digestive system."

The office chuckled as one as Gene made his way into his office, only to hurry out again as the door opened to reveal the Superintendent.

"Er, what can we do fer yer, sir?"

The Super gave a thin smile as Gene positioned himself in front of him, hands in pockets.

"I heard you had a little disagreement with a lorry last night, DCI Hunt. Just wanted to check that yourself and your daughter were alright."

"We're fine, sir," Gene got out before stopping abruptly. _Yourself and your daughter._

"Daugh'er?" Ray asked gormlessly, staring at Gene, who cleared his throat.

"DI Drake's daughter, actually, Carling. I volunteered ter look after 'er while Drake's at 'er summit in Belfast. Problem?"

Ray hurriedly remembered himself and coughed.

"No, Guv."

"Good."

The Super looked over Gene as the DCI looked back at him and shifted slightly, uncomfortable under his superior's gaze.

"You look well enough. And your car is mended?"

"Yes, sir. Was just the spare wheel that got crushed, lorry didn' touch 'er."

The Super nodded, questioning over, bidding CID a quick farewell and murmuring to Gene over his shoulder, "If you need time off to look after Molly, tell me; she'll want you around for the weekend."

Gene frowned. The weekend? Shit, had it come already? A glance at the calendar told him that yes, it was Friday and tomorrow there would be no school for Molly.

"Oh. Er, thanks sir."

"No problem, Gene."

The Super turned and marched out, whistling quietly as he went, leaving Gene with a problem.

What the hell was he going to do about the weekend?

* * *

"Well, we could go to the cinema?"

"Costs a bloody bomb."

"Shopping?"

"Since when did I know anythin' about shoppin'?"

"Well, we can't not do anything. Mum always does something with me."

"Tha's not the problem, Molls. It's findin' somethin' ter do."

Molly frowned thoughtfully, leaning back on the sofa and twiddling the TV remote in her fingers before sitting up and grinning at Gene, who watched her suspiciously.

"If it costs more than replacin' those cushions yer manglin', then no."

Molly shook her head, plumping the cushions up again as she spoke.

"I was thinking of a horse race. I always wanted to go to one, but Mum doesn't gamble and never had time. Please, Gene?"

She fixed him with her best little-girl smile, seeing him almost physically melt under her gaze.

"OK, fine. We'll go an' see a race or two."

"Yeah!" Molly cheered, getting up and hugging Gene, running upstairs and yelling over her shoulder, "Love you!"

Gene froze where he sat, taking in Molly's words, before standing up with a smile on his face, remembering that he had to cook dinner for the two of them. And find out how to cook vegetables.


	6. Northern Gambler

A/N: Slightly longer chapter than usual, so be thankful ;) Thanks massively to Beckykins for the help with the commentating and racing- couldn't have done it without you, thanks hugely!- and just to say, Triangolo and Northern Gambler were real racehorses, who died in 1987 and 1988 respectively. Please review, hope you enjoy it! Jazzola :)

* * *

Gene had barely had the chance to silence the alarm before Molly was running through to his room and jumping on the mattress next to him, almost spilling him out of the bed as she yelled "Come on, Gene!" in his ear. He had little choice but to get up.

"We're going to the races, we're going to the races!" Molly chanted as Gene spread butter on her toast in the kitchen, still in his pyjamas and looking amazed that she could be up, dressed and hyper beyond his imagination at this time in the morning. The clock above the cooker read six; they'd had to be up early to catch the first races at Kempton Racecourse, which right now was only a few years old, which was a bit strange to Molly. She was used to it being a lot older, and having an all-seasons track, but this was the Eighties and those hadn't been invented yet.

"Careful!" Gene admonished as she grabbed her toast and almost burned herself on the hob, where Gene's baked beans were slowly heating. Her enthusiasm, however, was contagious, and Gene felt a little stirring of excitement in his own stomach, something he hadn't felt since Alex had agreed to move in with him all those months ago.

After breakfast and a hurried brushing of teeth and visit to the loo for Molly, they were in the Quattro, zooming down the streets to be there for the first race at seven o'clock. Molly was looking through the scribbled notes on who would be racing that she'd gleaned from one of Gene's newspapers, describing which ones she thought would come in which places and how likely certain ones were to win. Gene wondered if she'd ever consider a job in commentating.

After parking smoothly, Gene took Molly through to the paddock, letting her take a look at the gleaming racehorses snorting in their enclosures, their carers giving them one last look-over and the jockeys observing the course, talking earnestly with their companions. Molly leaned as close as she could to them, cooing over them and murmuring to them in soft voices, smiling as Gene led her out to get some good seats before the race began.

As they headed up into the stands, Molly leaned over to talk to Gene.

"Don't bet on Triangolo. He glared at me."

Gene chuckled, taking a look back at the haughty stallion in the furthest stall to them. Molly might have been right; his eyes did seem to harbour some slight meanness to them. Nevertheless, he didn't quite believe that a horse hated his sort-of daughter.

At that, sitting down in his seat next to Molly, he went into a daydream: was Molly his daughter? Not by genetics, obviously, although they shared the blue eyes and dusky blond hair. But his DI was living with him and his partner- and then there was the question of her calling him "Dad" that night. Coincidence? Wishful thinking? Or just a tired, addled moment?

"DCI Hunt!"

A voice interrupted his thoughts; standing up and swerving round, he came face to face with the Super, wearing a suit so sharp you could have cut your fingers on it and with a large woman wearing possibly the biggest and most decorated hat Gene had ever seen clinging onto his arm.

"Er, 'ello, sir. And 'oo would this be?"

The woman holding onto the Super's arm smiled; the feathers on her hat wobbled precariously.

"Dorothy Pennington-Smythe," she said in a high-pitched, brittle voice, holding out a hand for Gene to kiss. It tasted of lavender essence and soap, both of which he hated, too many memories of his primary school teacher; he found his stomach roiling slightly.

"Honour. Gene Hunt."

"Richard's told me quite a bit about you," Dorothy Pennington-Smythe drawled, giving the Super a simper that would curdle milk. Gene shifted, hoping hard not to disgrace himself in front of his superior officer. Dorothy continued, regardless.

"Some of the things he's told me have been rather-"

"Gene!" Molly called, running up to him and stopping abruptly as she saw the Super and his lady-friend. "Oh, sorry..."

"Would you be Molly?" the Super asked, bending down slightly to Molly's level and giving her a patronising smile, evidently meant to charm her. Molly glared at him; Gene's lips twitched, but he gave Molly's arm a quick tap.

"Er, we'd better be goin', sir. Bettin's closin' in a couple o' minutes, an' we wouldn' want ter miss our chance."

"Of course, of course," the Super said indulgingly, Dorothy still hanging off his arm and giving Molly a smile that seemed more like a sneer. "I suggest you place some bets on Triangolo- Dorothy here owns him, and she says he's in top shape for today!"

"Figures," Molly said in a low voice as they hurried away to the betting stand, clinging onto the cuff of Gene's jacket to avoid getting lost in the crowd. "I thought they had the same look about them."

* * *

Ten minutes later and Gene and Molly were back in their best-view-possible positions, both clutching betting slips; they'd decided, on grounds of name, to go for Northern Gambler. The horses were pawing the ground restlessly, raring to go as the jockeys lined up and readied; Molly smiled encouragingly at Northern Gambler, giving him a little wave.

"And the race has begun! Triangolo picking up an early lead there, across the first hurdle nicely, with Northern Gambler behind him, a surprise second, and Netherby Ghost coming in third, with Ayle Hero bringing up the rear there just as Ya Muna falls. Triangolo beginning to extend a decent lead there at the front, Northern Gambler slowing a little bit..."

"COME ON, NORTHERN GAMBLER!" Molly screamed at the top of her voice, almost drowning out the commentator, as the horses passed them by, waving her arms over the stand and being snatched back by Gene. His eyes were riveted on the horse now approaching Triangolo's rear as they neared the finish, beginning to gain on the leader, picking up pace as Triangolo began to waver...

And then they were neck to neck, and Triangolo's jockey slapped his sides hard with the riding whip, his face contorted beneath his helmet as Northern Gambler edged forwards again, breath steaming in the frosty air, limbs flying and tail tangling behind him as he approached the front...

And then he was in front and past the finish in a whirl of bay flesh and bright colours, the jockey pounding the air as he wheeled the horse in, the crowds erupting with screams and cheers. Gene and Molly looked at each other, down at their betting slips, and then abruptly joined in, Molly flinging her arms round Gene and leaping up to balance herself on his hip as she whooped.

"NORTHERN GAMBLER WON!"

Gene eased her down, trying to preserve his back, but kept the massive smile on his face as they surged forwards with the crowd to see Northern Gambler doing a lap of honour, stopping in the middle to relieve himself. Several people laughed; someone called out, "Better out than in, son!" and the jockey gave him a thumbs-up, laughing himself.

Gene looked down at Molly's shining face beside him, glee written all over it as Dorothy Pennington-Smythe walked forwards, fake politeness plastered all over her suet-pudding face, to congratulate the winning jockey.

"'Ow d'yer wanna meet the winner?"

Molly nodded furiously, her eyes gleaming as Gene directed her across to meet Northern Gambler.

As soon as they got there, Molly began patting the stallion's side, fussing over him, stroking along his muzzle; the jockey gently turned him around to let Molly stroke his neck, grinning at Gene as he congratulated him on winning him several quid from the bookies.

"You should be congratulating Gambler here, not me," he said as Gene looked down at the horse, a little nervous but hiding it well. "Go on, give him a stroke, he won't bite."

Gene reached out slowly and pressed his hand against Gambler's damp neck, giving him a little stroke, a smile tweaking at his mouth as Gambler turned his head and blew into his hair.

It was then that Dorothy Pennington-Smythe chose to give a little scream mid-conversation.

Gambler jumped, startled, knocking his head into Gene's; Gene stumbled back and into Dorothy, who, like a domino, fell forwards- straight into the mound of poo Northern Gambler had just left.

There was a slightly stunned silence as Dorothy raised her head and spat out a little dung.

Gene hastily pushed himself up as the people around them began to laugh, Molly among them, splitting her sides as Gene pulled Dorothy Pennington-Smythe up and tried hard not to laugh himself at her massive face covered in fresh brown excrement. A fly landed on her nose and the people around her roared, giving Gene the perfect cover to slip away as the Super grasped Dorothy's arm and hurried her away to the ladies'.

Molly couldn't stop giggling all the way home; Gene, once he'd got the picture of Dorothy Pennington-Smythe's face covered in horse shit out of his head, wondered what the hell he was going to say to the Super come Monday morning, and how he was going to get Alex to stop teasing him about the incident once she found out.


	7. Trust Yourself

"He did WHAT?" Alex screeched down the phone to Molly, almost unable to control herself as she rolled around on the bed laughing, her screams of mirth only added to by hearing Gene calling "It wasn't that bloody funny!" to Molly in the background. Molly's description of their day at the races had been enough to put Alex in stitches, and she was looking forward to getting home in two days' time to spend the winnings.

"It's true, Mum! Knocked her back straight into the poo... but it wasn't his fault, she scared Northern Gambler so that he pushed Gene backwards. I bet the Super didn't see that though."

"Gene's going to be in so much trouble come Monday," Alex gasped, stopping laughing abruptly as she realised the full implications of this. Gene hadn't been on duty at the time, but if they didn't have the Super on side, Gene might as well just transfer.

"Don't worry, Mum, everyone saw that it was an accident. And she looked so funny..."

Molly was hooting with laughter again, but Alex was silent on the other end of the phone, thinking. What effect was this really having on Gene's self-confidence? From the sounds of it, he was beginning to doubt he could even really look after Molly at all; her hope had been to help him, show him how much Molly really loved having him around, not tell him that he was a useless parent. Looking back, she could count the disasters: Molly being late for school that first day, Gene almost being hit by the lorry picking her up, and now this thing at the races.

"Molls," she said quickly, interrupting Molly's impression of Dorothy Pennington-Smythe's voice as the Super began directing her to the toilets. "How would you say Gene is at looking after you?"

Molly sounded surprised when she answered.

"Why?"

"Just a question. Answer?"

"Well. He's not a normal dad, but he's great at it. He cares, that's the main thing. And he tries."

Alex digested this quietly.

"Did I ever tell you why I volunteered for the summit? And if Gene can hear this, move away."

"He's gone out to wash the Quattro. Jeans don't make him look half as tall."

"I'd noticed. Well, I wanted to show Gene that he really is a good dad to you, that he can look after you and that you think he's a great caregiver. But so far, things haven't been going well..."

"We were late on the first day because he forgot to set the alarm. Fair enough, you do as well, sometimes. Then the lorry thing wasn't his fault, he was doing everything right, it was the stupid lorry driver's fault. Then the thing at the races wasn't his fault either- who's stupid enough to scream when there's an excitable horse around? Her, I guess, but that didn't make that his fault. Only tell that to him and he won't accept it. He has to take the blame, and I bet it's because he always did as a child or something, knowing you."

"It's because he can't accept that he's any good at taking care of you. But his own childhood was awful, Molls, just take it from me. He'll tell you in his own time if he wants to, he only trusted me with it because I already knew through reading Sam Tyler's files. He doesn't think he's any good at caring for other people outside of the police force, and his ex-wife only helped strengthen that delusion that he's under. I want you to try and reassure him that he is good, tell him what you told me, make sure he knows you like being with him."

"I think he knows that, Mum."

"He adores being your sort-of dad. He was over the moon when I told him that you liked him, after that first meeting."

"Yeah, well, how can you not like someone who does a power-slide in a bright red Audi to park outside the restaurant and has snakeskin cowboy boots?"

Alex snorted with laughter.

"And I called him Dad, as well. I think he liked it."

"When did you do that?" Alex asked, her eyes wide.

"The night he had that near miss with the lorry. We were both half asleep, he let me sleep on your side of the bed because I had nightmares. And I thought he was asleep, so I called him Dad, because... well, he's more of a dad than my real dad's ever been to me. He takes me places, buys me stuff, lets me cuddle him when I dream about my old life and doesn't let me go to Luigi's when his team are in there because I might pick up swear words from them."

Alex snorted with laughter, her heart bursting with love for her complex, impossible, amazing man.

"You picked up worse from YouTube back... you know when."

"Yes. I know when."

Molly's zip scratched against the handset suddenly as she turned, and she hissed through to her mother that she had to go.

"Gene's come in, he wants a word."

The next voice was Gene's, so familiar that Alex had to stop herself laughing as she heard it.

"Bolls? Yer OK over in Belfast?"

"Fine, Gene. Listen-"

"Bolls, I- I dunno if I can carry on wi' this. I'm rubbish at lookin' after 'er. So far I've shoved some posh mare inter a mound o' stallion poo, almost got myself killed in front of 'er, argued with 'er an' made 'er late fer school. Can't yer come 'ome?"

"Oh, Gene."

Alex could feel her heart sinking into her feet even as he spoke. The defeat in his voice was almost enough to make her cry.

"Please?"

Now that was rare. Gene, begging? Practically unheard of.

"Just hang on until the summit's finished, Gene. She loves having you as her dad, she thinks you're doing a great job. And for the record, yes, a couple of things have gone wrong, but you've been amazing, better than even I thought you would be."

"Who're yer tryin' ter impress, Bolls?"

"It's the truth. Just- trust me, Gene, and trust her. And overall trust yourself."


	8. The Coolest Day

_Trust yourself. _Alex's words echoed in Gene's brain as he sat Molly down in front of a plateful of Luigi's spaghetti bolognaise and some slightly overcooked broccoli and carrots (not bad for a first attempt, but Gene had spat them back into the sink upon tasting them, not being a fan of either and especially not when they were soggy and limp) and he helped himself to a beer from the fridge, sinking down onto the chair opposite Molly and taking a long gulp.

"Gene?"

He looked round at Molly, trying not to look pleased as she speared a carrot on her fork and popped it whole into her mouth. She was probably just being polite.

"Did Mum tell you I like my vegetables overcooked?"

His expression of surprise told everything. Molly giggled, sliding off her seat and giving him a hug.

"Well, I do. Thanks, Gene."

She grinned at him, her big blue eyes alight, then turned and ran up to her room, not completely missing the broad grin that stole over Gene's face as he watched her go. One small victory, then.

* * *

The phone woke Gene early the next morning, trilling next to his head as he groggily answered, swore once and then dropped it back onto its handle. It was Molly's headmistress, informing him that the school had been severely damaged by fire the night before and wouldn't be open for two weeks until it was safe again. That meant that Gene would have to either find someone to look after Molly today, or take her into CID with him.

Molly, as he'd expected, acted more like she'd been awarded an Oscar than got a couple of weeks off; her shrieking was enough to wake the dead and certainly more than enought to aggravate the headache of a tired bastard with a hangover, he grumbled to himself as Molly dragged on jeans and a shirt to come with him to the office. After a brief phone call to let Alex know what was happening, they set off, Molly's excitement obvious in her high-pitched voice and occasional whoops. Gene wondered if there would be any paracetamol in the medicine cupboard.

As they neared the wide doors, Molly stopped Gene with an outstretched arm, turning to him with her eyes glittering; Gene stared back innocently, hoping there was nothing too calculating happening behind those blue orbs.

"Can we go through like you and Mum do, one at each door at the same time?"

Gene shrugged, relieved that she wasn't going to ask for a piggy-back into CID or something.

"Don' see why not. Yer take yer mum's door on the left, I'll go right. Don' bump inter me or it ruins the effect."

The little spurt of coaching was enough to work Molly into even more excitement, and Gene knew it was babyish but making the little things into life into events just seemed to delight Molly each and every time. Secretly, he hoped she wouldn't ever grow out of it.

Their entrance was greeted with a joking whoop from Shaz and a round of applause from Chris, who immediately whisked Molly off between themselves to get her something to eat and drink and sit her down in Gene's office on an old Scooby-Doo beanbag with some police files to keep her happy. The muggings and burglaries struggled to hold her attention, but as soon as she came across a particularly gory murder she was hooked for hours. She even volunteered to do Gene's paperwork, but he didn't think he'd be able to push the boundaries that far.

The news that the Super was late in had filtered through to CID, and so it was with some dread that Gene waited for his arrival, steadily ploughing through paperwork and commenting on Molly's cases every so often, talking quietly with her while his pen ploughed on in an unwilling hand. Molly was enjoying herself more than she would have thought was humanly possible until the doors banged open and everyone looked up to see the Super standing there, a starched expression on his face as he walked towards Gene's office and saw the man sitting in there with his eyes on the desk in front of him, Molly hidden from view sunk into the beanbag.

"DCI Hunt. A word."

Gene's head jerked up, closely followed by the rest of his body as he pushed his chair back and walked out to meet his superior, giving Molly a warning look not to get involved as he went past. Alex would never forgive him if something happened to her here.

"The races, on Sunday."

"Won a tidy sum off Northern Gambler," Gene said evenly, positioning himself with his hands in his pockets, legs slightly spread. Molly watched curiously, seeing his stance change unconsciously. _Defensive. He's squaring up for a fight. What if the Super takes a swing at him?_

"I hope you have a good excuse for what happened."

"The horse was startled an' knocked me backwards."

The Super swelled; CID was silent, watching with interest.

"Detective Chief Inspector, your actions ended with a very good friend of mine falling into a mound of horse poo! Her incredibly expensive clothes were ruined, and she personally suffered great embarrassment and discomfort. I've a good mind to suspend you until you answer for your actions."

Gene froze, startled. _Suspend me? I didn' do anythin' bloody wrong! _The Super was annoyed because his "ladyfriend" (oh yes, Gene knew about his little extra-marital relationships) had been the subject of a very funny spectacle. He was willing for Gene to take the blame despite knowing what had happened, having been watching.

Molly saw Gene stiffen, reel back a little in shock. _Suspend him? He didn't do anything bloody wrong! _Silently, she eased herself off the beanbag, leaving Fred with a dented head, and stole into CID as the Super began speaking again.

"I recommend that you begin clearing out your desk now, Hunt-"

"What exactly is the nature of your relationship with Dorothy Pennington-Smythe, Superintendent?"

The Super swerved round to see a miniature version of DI Drake standing next to him, hands on hips, eyes gleaming.

"I- that's none of your business- what is she doing here?"

"I saw what happened at the races. You're blaming Gene for your girlfriend's stupidity. That's pathetic!"

The Super looked back at Gene as he grinned, eyes steely, daring the Super to make the next move.

Which he did.

His fist was in Gene's face before the DCI could react; he stumbled back, kicking out, catching his superior straight in the gentleman's area as he steadied himself on Shaz's desk, watching with some satisfaction as the Super crumpled onto the floor, whimpering quietly amid a sea of CID's laughter.

"I suggest yer go take a look at that, _sir_," Gene called amid the hilarity. "Don' wan' any damage there now, bearin' yer favourite activities in mind!"

The department howled with laughter as the Super stood with some difficulty, made a rude hand gesture towards Gene and scuttled out, backed into a corner; Gene knew everything, and he had won. Well, him and Molly. Being beaten by a teenage girl was bad.

* * *

"I'm glad my school burned down."

"Thought yer might be."

Gene was lying on the sofa, his eyes on the very racetrack they'd visited the day before, glowing on the TV screen with a pack of frozen peas pressed to his swollen nose. Molly perched on the arm, just above his feet, flicking through a file she'd found next to her mother's bed.

"That way I got to go into CID and show everyone what a twat your Super is."

Gene's mouth curved into a smile beneath the peas.

"Glad yer enjoyed yerself."

"I did," Molly grinned, launching herself down from the arm and hugging Gene before returning to the file and running upstairs to her room, yelling back: "You're the coolest, Dad!"

Gene jumped slightly, staring after her on the stairway before letting his eyes return to the TV screen, which seemed to have blurred slightly. _TV glare, should probably take a break._

But that didn't explain why he suddenly felt so warm inside, or why his confidence had just had a super boost.


	9. She's Gone

Two more days of being Molly's full-time father. It echoed round in Gene's head as he called in on a neighbour to ask a favour of her, knowing that Molly, despite being more than welcome in CID, couldn't spend every day there. There were rules, he grumbled to himself as he trudged up the path in old trainers and jogging trousers, ringing the doorbell and giving the occupant of the house a tiny smile as she opened the door.

"'Ello, Mandy. Can I ask a favour?"

Mandy Skelton cocked her head to one side in silent encouragement as Gene leaned against the doorframe, his foot unconsciously scuffing the mat.

"My DI's daughter's stayin' wi' me, but I've got ter go ter work an' can' take 'er in wi' me a second time. Would yer be able ter look after 'er?"

Mandy smiled, nodding.

"Course. It's fine, Gene."

Gene gave her the barest minimum of a hug, retreating back up the path hurriedly and heading back to his own house, a couple of plots down. Had he looked back, he would have seen Mandy watching him fondly; he'd been such a guardian to her son, looked after him and his friends and become one of the people he respected the most. She owed him more than a favour, and every time he found himself in deep brown stuff, she was chuffed that he turned to her for advice. She'd been told many a time that she was level-headed, sensible and a great agony aunt, but having the great Manc Lion turn up on her doorstep asking for help was certainly no small event.

Turning back into her house with a smile on her face, she began readying the house for Molly Drake's visit, hoping that she was like her mother; if so, she knew they would get along just fine.

* * *

"Oh, Gene, please?"

"Molls, it was only fer the one day. Yer can' come in every day, God knows what would 'appen if on yer first day I got inter a fight wi' my superior officer an' yer revealed 'is womanisin' ter the 'ole department."

Molly pouted, looking like Gene for a split second before returning to whining.

"Ple-ease? Pretty pretty please with a cherry on top and ice cream and chopped nuts?"

"Don't like chopped nuts. Look, Molls, she's Chris' mum, 'ow bad can she be? She's a great woman, yer'll get on like an 'ouse on fire. Yer can take yer files as well an' look 'em over wi' 'er. She's just there ter entertain yer and keep an eye on yer."

Molly sighed, pretending to bop Gene on his still-sore nose.

"Fine. But you have to make it up to me."

"I can bring yer 'ome some files on the Delphine Parks rape an' murder case? Yer can try gettin' yer 'ead round some real police work, try an' figure out 'oo the baddie was 'cos 'e was never sent down fer 'is crimes. Worse luck."

Molly nodded enthusiastically, knowing that she would miss CID and her beanbag in Gene's office but knowing that her track record was a little shaky at the moment.

"Fine. And what about the case with George Staines? Can I see the file on that too?"

"Anythin' ter shut yer up!"

Molly cheered, hugged Gene and received a hug in return before motoring up to her room and yelling down that she was going to call her mum.

* * *

"Mum? I'm going to Chris' mum's for the day, Gene said I couldn't come into the office with him because something happened between me, him and the Super. Gene kind of got hit on the nose, but he sorted the Super out and he's fine now. Well, not too red anyway. The Super'll probably never father another child after that hit to the gonads. Gene's snakeskin boots are perfect for that kind of thing. Have you ever met Chris' mum? Gene said to call her Mandy, if it helps."

"Yes, I met her one time," Alex replied, a smile on her face in the small room in Belfast as she managed to cut through her daughter's endless chatter and get a word in edgeways. Molly had always talked too much, but she loved her for it. "She's great, just don't try to rub her up the wrong way or anything like that, eh? And what happened with Gene and the Super? Fill me in, please."

"I told everyone in CID that the Super was shagging Dorothy, which Gene told me he was-"

"Language, Molly!"

"Sorry- er, having sexual intercourse with her, Dr Mother. Anyway, he got really annoyed and hit Gene in the face, so Gene fell back and kicked him in the meat and two veg, as James May would say sometime in the future. He just kind of collapsed. I don't think Gene did any permanent damage, but he was pretty winded. It was so funny, but you had to be there."

"Probably," Alex said dryly, hearing Gene calling Molly in the background and someone knocking on her own door. "I've got to go and so have you, so ring me this evening and let me have a chat with Gene too, eh? Love you, darling."

"Love you, Mum," Molly replied, smiling as she put the phone down. Alex put the phone down, smoothing her hair down and turning to be greeted by a nervous young copper who'd come to get "Madam Drake" from her room and get her into the conference centre.

_I wouldn't mind Gene calling me "madam" some time... _she thought as she walked after him, imagining her partner's snakeskin boots walking down the narrow corridor and keeping her company.

* * *

Gene was having a good day so far. Two armed blaggers caught and shoved in the cells, one successful prosecution for a case a month or so ago and several cups of very sweet tea drunk, although Shaz had a cold so it had fallen on Chris instead. He'd had to fish out the tea leaves, but the liquid itself had been fine.

He was leaning back and relaxing on his desk, playing a quick game of darts, when the call came through.

"Hunt?"

"Gene- I- oh God, I'm so sorry, I just don' know what ter do- Gene, yer 'ave ter come 'ere, Molly's gone missing."

An entire iceberg slid coolly into Gene's stomach; he caught his breath, almost choking on the air as he stood straight up, letting the files on his desk thump to the floor, grabbing the Quattro keys as Mandy gasped that Molly had been going to the shops and hadn't come back.

He strode out of CID with one order to his department: "Find Molly Drake. Now."

* * *

A/N: Ooh! Nice little twist :) Hope you like it! Please remember to review. Jazzola :)


	10. Directions

"Any sign of 'er, any of yer?"

"Nothin'," several police officers broadcast as Gene let the radio drop onto his lap, taking a sharp right turn towards his house, eyes roving the pavements for any sign of his sort-of daughter. Every small sound made him jump, every movement caught his eye; he knew he was pale, sweating and shaky, and felt glad that the CID boys couldn't see him like this. If they knew how much he cared about Molly... for a second he felt almost rebellious- why shouldn't they?- but it was quickly quashed by his worry. He had to find her.

What the hell had he been thinking, leaving her with someone else? He had been irresponsible, negligent, an idiot, and this was all his fault. He would have to explain everything to Alex... oh Jesus, she was going to absolutely hate him. He'd lose her forever.

He'd lose everything he held precious.

He might as well die.

Gene pressed a little harder on the accelerator, his eyes swerving from side to side, pressing his hand against the steering wheel and feeling himself tremble.

She had to be here somewhere...

* * *

Molly sat down hard on a short brick fence at the end of someone's garden, feeling tears prickling her eyes. One moment she'd been popping to the shops for a girly mag and some chocolate to share between herself and Mandy, and the next she was hopelessly lost and wandering from street to street, feeling herself losing her bearings a little bit more each time she took a step.

A red car drove past, and she thought wistfully of Gene; it would be heaven if he could drive past her now, stop a little way away, pick her up like a little girl and carry her to the Quattro, slide her into the front passenger seat and take her back to her house. But Gene probably had no idea where she was. And nor did she.

She forced herself to stand up again, threads from her distressed jeans snagging on the brick. Maybe she could ask someone directions?

Gathering her courage, she turned to walk up to the house whose fence she had just sat on, reaching out tentatively to knock on the door, shrinking back as she heard a dog barking and an angry voice swearing at it. She considered bolting for the road again, but fear held her to the spot; fear of not being found, fear of whatever lay behind that door, fear of her whole situation.

A dog's jaws snapped at her suddenly, and she shrieked, jumping back, shielding herself with her arms as a woman reached out to pull it back hard, seeing Molly's fright, reining the dog in like a lion tamer.

"Can I 'elp?"

A harsh, brittle London accent snarled out of the woman's mouth as she glared at the pretty young girl in front of her, all terror and no bottle. The dog barked again and Molly squealed, backing off.

"Look, just put out an 'and an' pet 'im. 'E don't bite."

Molly severely doubted that, but she carefully extended a hand, watching with astonishment as the German Shepherd turned from a growling beast to a puppy in the blink of an eye. He licked her hand, wriggling his back end as his tail whipped his owner's legs, blinking luxuriously as Molly gave him a quick rub on the head.

"Did ya just come to rub my dog, or is there somethin' else?"

Molly looked back up at the woman, seeing eyes similar to the eyes she'd first seen on Gene: guarded, trying hard not to let anyone in to the hurt festering beneath. Deciding to just be smiley and see where that got her, she straightened up, leaving the dog with one hand to nuzzle and talking straight to its irate owner.

"I'm really sorry to bother you. I'm lost and I need to find my way back home. I live in Westerchurch Road, can you tell me how to get back there?"

"New to the area, eh?" The woman gave Molly another hard look, but quickly softened. Molly grinned as the instructions were yapped out at her, recognising the demeanour fondly. _Gene, a la 1981._

"Thank you so much," she beamed as the woman closed the door on her abruptly, dragging the dog back in with her, leaving her with a slobbery hand and directions home that she doubted she would remember but would probably help. Setting off on the journey described, she picked up her pace, hoping that Mandy wasn't worrying too much, and especially that she hadn't called Gene.

A flash of red in her peripheral vision drew her up short; she expected it to be another thing, something completely irrelevant, but when she turned and looked it took the shape of a very familiar Audi Quattro.

Molly turned and screamed towards the road, running towards the car as it slewed to a stop in the middle of the road and the door opened.

"GENE!"

* * *

Gene was out of the car as fast as was humanly possible with the years of beer gut accumulation to deal with, running towards Molly, completely free of shame as he threw his arms round her and hugged her fiercely, disregarding his reputation as the Manc Lion and beginning to sob into her shoulder, tears of agony and relief mixing as Molly held him as closely as she could, burying her face in his hair.

"Molls... Molly..."

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry," Molly gasped, patting him on the back, holding him close again, a few stray tears sneaking out of her own eyes as he put her down, drying his face forcefully, the Guv returning.

"Oh Molls, d'yer know what I've been goin' through? I thought yer were gone... 'ow the 'ell am I supposed ter stay sane without yer an' yer mum?"

"Why Mum as well?"

"Oh, never mind... just get in the Quattro. An' yer can apologise ter Mandy as well, an' the rest o' my department, all of 'oom are lookin' fer yer."

Molly turned and stared at him, a tiny smile on her face as she nodded, salt tears leaking from her eyes as Gene belted her in and radioed through to his colleagues to let them know that Molly was safe, trying not to let them hear his constricted voice. She turned and looked through the rear windscreen at the little house with the dog, giving it a little wave as the Quattro sped off, leaving the bungalow behind.

From the front window, a woman watched on, smiling as the scene of the man running to hold her replayed in her head and her dog barked behind her. Although she knew the little girl wouldn't see it, she waved back.


	11. The Best Dad Ever

"What the bloody hell did you think you were doing, Molly Alexandra Drake? You terrified the life out of poor Gene and me as well, created unnecessary work for the whole department and just about reduced Mandy to a nervous wreck, thinking she'd let you go missing on her watch. If you get lost, you go into a shop with people in it and ask for directions, you don't just wander around hoping you'll get somewhere! Gene was almost in tears when he spoke to me- what do you think this has done to his confidence? There had better be nothing else like this before I get back!"

Molly, knowing she deserved the rant, simply replied "yes, Mum, sorry", letting her finish her tirade before handing the phone back to Gene and heading up to her room, feeling a rat. Her mother had a point- Gene's confidence must be shot to bits by now. This was meant to help him, not hurt him even more!

The crackle of her mother's voice down the phone, although unintelligible, made Molly stop; she hoped that her mother would be able to reassure Gene, but her hopes were shot down by Gene's quiet, saddened words.

"Bolls, I can't cope, I just can't."

The speech sliced through Molly; she turned without a second thought and ran to her bedroom, burying her head in the pillow and sobbing, crying so hard she didn't hear her door opening or Gene walking over and sitting down next to her, putting his hand on her shoulder carefully, as though he expected to be shrugged off.

"Gene, I'm sorry, I really am, I- I just got s-scared, I'm sorry!"

"Ssh," Gene murmured to her, lifting her up so he could see her face. "Molls, I'm not angry wi' yer. I'm disappointed, but not angry. More angry at meself, fer not bein' there."

"Well, that's stupid! You had to go to work and I couldn't go with you. I was the idiot who went off to the shops and got lost. You found me as well, you were the one who actually turned up and carted me back to Mandy's. You remedied my mistake. You were awesome."

Gene gave a quiet "harumph" and pulled her up to hug her, feeling her solid warmth against his body, closing his eyes. _Jesus, if I'd lost 'er, I wouldn' 'ave been able ter live wi' myself._

They stayed there for a long time, disturbed by the phone ringing downstairs and Gene heading through to answer it. Molly rubbed at the stains on her pillow and tried to catch snatches of Gene's conversation; from the sounds of it, it was someone from his department, asking questions.

"Yeah, she's safe now... what? No, I bloody well was not cryin'!... I've informed DI Drake, yes... Yer'll 'ave me blushin', Raymondo. Now ring off an' stop wastin' electricity."

The next sound was the phone being dropped onto the cradle and Gene walking back up and into her room once again.

"Tha' was Ray, askin' about yer. An' 'e told me I was the best dad ever ter yer. Never knew 'e was so dumb. Yer'd better get inter the shower an' ter bed, it's almost eight an' yer've 'ad a long day."

Molly grabbed him, refusing to let him go, shaking her head insistently at him.

"You are the best dad ever. You go way out of your way to help me, you take me into work with you, you take me places and talk with me and you're a million times better than my real dad. I wish you were my real dad. No joke or anything like that. You're awesome."

Seeing him frozen to the spot, she got up and hugged him again, feeling him quickly respond so that she didn't fall over. _He protects me every second of every day, when he can. My real dad pushed off and left me when I was six months old. Bastard. Gene's a thousand times the man he'll ever be._

"Oh, Molls..."

Molly leaned up to whisper in Gene's ear, a smile on her face as she pushed the matted blond hair out of her way and found his ear.

"Can I call you Dad instead of Gene?"

Gene gulped, turning to stare at Molly, all his dreams come true in one little bundle holding onto him. Her bright blue eyes stared back at him, and he realised with a jolt that they were just like his.

"Yeah. Yeah, yer can, Molls. I- it'd be great."

Molly squealed with delight, hugging Gene so fiercely the buttons on his shirt made tiny circular marks on his chest and stomach before running into the bathroom and turning the shower on, beginning to sing "The Land of Make Believe" at the top of her voice, happy at last.

Gene had never thought he would like the sound of Bucks Fizz so much.

* * *

"'E said I was a brilliant dad."

"He's right, you know. You've done a great job, considering you've only ever looked after yourself full-time before."

"An' my team, Bolls."

"But Molly doesn't go into armed shoot-outs or catch murderers for a living. Which reminds me: could you go to the library and get out some maths, science and English books for her to read while her school's closed? I'll give you a list when you've got time. I'm always here, you know."

"Yeah, I know. Fine."

"You do know where the library is, don't you?"

"Yes." Pause. "Well, I'm sure Molly will."

"Such an educated man, Gene Hunt."

"Educated in the stuff that matters, Bolls."

"Yes. Including looking after a little girl."

"She asked me if she could call me 'er dad today."

"About time, too. What did you say?"

"What d'yer think, Bolls? She's my bloody life now, 'er an' yer. I love 'er."

Alex sat there, the biggest smile possible on her face, and let the tears of adoration fall.


	12. Dismissal

A/N: For everybody who's read from the start, I've decided to make it six days instead of five that Alex's away. This is the fifth day, just to clear things up, but I didn't want to bring Alex home just yet. Hope you like it, and please remember to review! Jazzola :)

* * *

The alarm clock buzzed through Gene's fuzzy thoughts as he reached out wonkily with one arm to bash it, turning it off by knocking it onto the floor and dislodging the bell. He groaned, sitting up and wiping the sleep from his eyes, only to be greeted with a small tornado as Molly ran through and launched herself at him, gabbling that she would love to come into CID with him today.

"Dear goodness, Molls, let me get some clothes on first before yer attack me, would yer?" Gene groaned, carefully selecting an expletive phrase that Molly couldn't tell on him to her mother about. Molly threw his suit at him, hanging in the wardrobe next to her, and headed downstairs to make breakfast. Gene wondered if he could somehow wean Molly off being a morning person.

Determinedly avoiding the Super and preparing any excuses he might need to use, Gene headed through to CID with Molly at his side, anticipating a loan of Shaz's Walkman and her beanbag and police files once again. Someone was talking loudly in a South London accent as they approached the double doors; frowning and abandoning the dramatic entrance Molly had been looking forward to, Gene headed through to find a heavy-set woman with a large German Shepherd on a lead at her side, screaming at Ray.

"I'm tellin' ya, I was at 'ome yesterday at two o'clock! I didn't kill anybody!"

The dog whined, pawing at his owner as she shrieked; seeming to pick up on who she was directing her wrath to, he turned and started barking at Ray, compounding the noise of half the department yelling for someone to grab both the dog and the woman and the woman yelling that she'd set the dog on Ray and Ray yelling that he'd have her charged with assaulting a police officer.

"EVERYBODY SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

Total quiet spread through CID as Gene stood in the entrance, his hands on his hips, watching the sorry scene playing out in front of him.

"Would someone please tell me what the 'ell is goin' on in 'ere? Sounds like a battle between Bucks bloody Fizz an' Sweet!"

"We 'ave an eye-witness statement 'ere ter say that this woman was seen outside the bingo 'all yesterday, beatin' a young man ter death. Ten minutes later, the body o' the said young man is found at the end of 'er street. On'y she's denyin' any involvement."

Molly studied the woman from behind Gene, her eyes widening as she recognised her. The same woman she'd got directions off the day before.

"I know where she was at two o'clock yesterday. She was at home, I was asking her how to get back to my street from hers and she gave me the route. Your eye-witness must be wrong."

At the last sentence, Ray spluttered into his cup of tea. Gene raised his eyebrows.

"Is that good enough fer yer, Carling, or would yer like a written statement as well? I'm sure Miss Drake would be more than 'appy ter comply."

Ray avoided the fierce blue gazes of both his DCI and his companion, instead focusing on a tea ring on his battered desk as he nodded.

"I'd better take the statement, then. Come wi' me, Mol- Miss Drake."

He sloped off, grouchy at the lack of the collar; he'd been looking forward to Gene coming in to find a murderer in the cells, not being shown up by DI Drake's little girl in front of the whole department. Gene huffed quietly in the silence, turning to his team.

"Yer lot can pull in 'ooever the eye-witness was an' either get the truth out of 'em or charge 'em wi' wastin' police time. Get ter it."

"Good to see you all working for once," said a snide voice from the doorway. Gene turned slightly to see the Super once again. lifting his chin up and giving the German Shepherd a swift nudge on the rear as it squatted to have a wee on the carpet. The woman jerked on his collar and pulled him out, giving Gene an abrupt thanks as she hauled her dog away.

"No problem, love. Might need yer back, though, so don' go too far. Anythin' we can 'elp yer with, sir? Didn' get enough rumours circulatin' around the station?"

The Super stepped forwards, his jaw clenched with the effort of keeping civil. The small bruise left on the bridge of Gene's nose from his little fight a couple of days before was the only thing that seemed to slightly appease him, and a grim smile forced its way onto his lips as he spoke.

"My wife heard the rumours from one of her friends. She gave me the divorce papers this morning. She's taking the kids with her and milking me for every penny I've got. You've ruined our marriage, Hunt. I hope you feel proud of yourself."

"No, sir."

The Super bristled.

"Yer ruined yer marriage, sir, by 'avin' an affair."

"Oh yes, because you were squeaky clean all through your own marriage, Gene."

That did it. Gene advanced, his eyes narrowing, his whole department holding their collective breath as he stopped a centimetre away from the Super.

"Let this much be known, _sir_. I was honourable all through my marriage, an' although it was ill-fated at least we both tried ter make it work, an' part o' that would be not 'avin' little pieces on the side. Yer accuse me of somethin' like that again an' I'll be reportin' yer ter yer superiors."

"Too late, Gene," said a smooth voice from the doorway. The Super turned, his face dropping like an avalanche as he saw the Chief Superintendent standing behind him, and behind him, of all people, Lord Scarman.

"We found out about the little scandal with your marriage, Richard. We've also been informed that you attacked one of your own officers- our very own DCI Hunt here- and we have made the decision that retirement might be the best thing for you."

The Super shook his head fiercely, his mouth swinging open, abandoning Gene and hurrying forwards to try and bargain with his superiors.

"I'm shocked to think a Superintendent would sink this low, Richard," Lord Scarman said simply, not letting the Chief Super get a word in before making his own point. "If you don't retire of your own accord, then I'll be putting the paperwork in to have you dismissed, and you lose your pension and any hope of salvaging some dignity out of this sorry state of affairs. Your choice."

Gene could barely hide his triumph as the Super scuttled from the office, head down, CID not quite daring to jeer but to a man beaming.

_Well, this'll be an interestin' one ter tell Bolly about when she comes back..._

He looked up to see Molly running over to fling her arms round his midriff, laughing into his stomach as Lord Scarman gave Gene a small smile and turned to head out of CID. A sudden thought occurred to him, and he pulled Molly into a hug, hiding his smile in her hair.

_An' I couldn' 'ave done it without Molls._


	13. Don't Do Anything Stupid

"Armed attack, Guv, one o' the south post offices."

Gene was out from behind his desk in seconds, grabbing his coat and gloves and giving Molly strict orders to stay where she was as the door of his office slammed. Ray gave her a quick thumbs-up, trying to keep in her good books; he didn't want a mini-Drake running around complaining about him to her mother. Luckily, she seemed to like _Top Gear_, so they had something to talk about.

"Come on then, ladies, what're yer waitin' fer?" Gene barked to Chris and Shaz, holding the door open for them as a couple of the DCs looked up hopefully, wishing they would get the rare honour of going on a shout with their DCI. The chosen pair abandoned their game of Hangman on Shaz's desk and all but ran to the door, Shaz whispering a thanks to Gene as she went. Gene, being a bit of a bastard, ignored her, but the feeling that he'd done something Alex would approve of was good enough for him.

_Bloody 'ell, Gene, yer turning inter a bigger poof than Boy George! Yer better get yer end away a few times when Bolly gets back..._

The Quattro swerved off as soon as the doors shut on the group, Gene's snakeskin boot slamming onto the accelerator as the mighty German engine roared; Shaz's cheeks were pink with exhilaration and a little bit of an adrenaline rush, her hand firmly in Chris' as they cornered so sharply Chris and Ray were pushed together, appearing to be hugging, much to the delight of those in the front.

"Bloody 'ell, Wonder Chris, just can't get enough, can yer?" Gene called back, much to Chris' discomfort.

The post office looked normal enough, a couple of smashed windows the only clue that something strange was happening there; the postmistress and her husband were inside, being held hostage by the armed robbers as they demanded money from the Government for their release. Gene parked a little way away, advancing slowly on the dirty doors as his officers instinctively moved to flank him, watching intently for any signs of trouble. A gunshot echoed through the building, hitting the ceiling inside, and everyone jumped; Gene ordered Chris and Shaz to stand either side of the door, giving the order for Ray to get to one side and for them to open the doors fully on his command.

"Yer ready?" he mouthed as they braced themselves, hands on the doors, guns clutched bravely. They nodded, and he jerked his hand back, the signal for them to yank the doors open.

The wood swung back, exposing the post office, the armed robbers with balaclava-covered faces and the hostages. The postmistress shrieked, cowering back, slapping her husband as he tried to hide behind her.

"OK," Gene muttered. _Now that we 'ave the door open, what the bloody 'ell do I do? This is where I could use Bolly's psycho-bollocks! Come on, Genie boy, think think think, what's that psychology crap she always does? Just don't do anythin' stupid._

He stepped out hesitantly, holding his arms up, gun in its holster but close enough to be drawn quickly if the need arose. Despite what he'd always said in the past, he had enough experience to know that going in all guns blazing was not going to work.

"'Ello. I'm DCI Gene Hunt. Yer not goin' ter get the money from the Government that yer want, OK? They're not goin' ter give it up. Yer need ter release the 'ostages, I 'ave a team of armed back-up waitin' outside an' they'll not 'esitate ter shoot yer if yer don' do as we ask. I'm unarmed."

He shifted the gun a little further into its holster beneath his coat as he said it. The robbers scrutinised him.

"Let one of 'em go," the leader growled back to his friends, grabbing the shirt of the postmistress' husband and throwing him towards Gene. "We don't need the both of 'em."

The husband grasped Gene's arms as the hostage takers trained their guns on his wife and the DCI; sighing, Gene disentangled him and poured him out into the welcoming arms of Shaz, who took him off to a waiting police van.

"That just leaves us and her, DCI 'Unt," the leader sneered, extending a hand and beckoning for Gene to come forwards. Gene stepped towards him slowly, his eyes trained on the gun, one hand inching towards his own firearm and stopping abruptly as the man's eyes focused on the holster.

"Give that up now, Hunt. You said you were unarmed, now you can live up to your promise. Give me the gun and we won't shoot the bitch."

Gene mentally kicked himself, taking the gun out and dropping it on the floor at his feet, watching mutely as the leader walked forwards and snatched it away, directing Gene over to the woman with a twitch of his own firearm.

"Sit there."

* * *

"This is BBC News at one o'clock."

Alex lounged on her bed in the Belfast hotel room, the news on in front of her and some mozzarella and basil pasta on a steaming plate on the bedside table, twisted round her fork as it rose to her mouth and slid inside, emerging clean and empty. The familiar tune on the TV made her smile.

"An armed siege is currently taking place in London's Fenchurch East area. A DCI has been taken hostage by the armed group and demands for fifty thousand pounds of Government money have been filtered through. The DCI, believed to be DCI Gene Hunt of the Metropolitan Police, and the postmistress of the post office hosting the siege are still inside."

Alex's stomach turned over as she stared open-mouthed at the screen. Spitting the pasta back out, she leapt up and grabbed a phone, her heart hammering, the food completely forgotten. What if the siege went wrong? Oh God, was Molly there? Was she OK?

Her pulse in her mouth, Alex dialled the number for Gene's office, her fingers shaking so hard she had to try twice to get it right.

* * *

"Mum? What's happened?"

"Molls, do you know about the siege? The call Gene went to?"

"He's not back yet. I thought it was just taking a while." Pause. "A siege?"

"Molls, Gene is inside and he's being held hostage."

The phone fell from Molly Drake's lifeless hand as her mother's words burned into her skull. _Gene. Hostage. Siege. Inside. The call about the post office..._

"I've got to go," she murmured, the phone thudding onto the floor next to Gene's desk as Molly ran towards the door, Alex's voice yelling from the handset.

"Molls! Molls, promise me you won't do anything stupid..."

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the late update, I've been revising very hard for my science exams- three of 'em this week. *is sick* Hope you enjoyed it, and please remember to review! Jazzola :)


	14. A Dusty Escape

"Yer alright, love?"

The postmistress sat next to Gene nodded, a tear falling off the end of her nose. Her glasses were broken; the crushed frames were held in her shaking hands, cradled as though the slightly tarnished metal was the most precious thing in the world. He had his arm round her, trying to keep her calm.

"Please keep your arm where it is," she murmured to him. "I'm freezing in here. Normally I'm in the nice heated bit round the till, I never realised how cold it is out here."

He managed half a smile.

"Why did you come storming in, then?" she whispered, leaning back against the wall, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she was crushing his arm. He ignored it, instead thinking over what she'd said.

"Well, tried ter do what my partner does, psychology, an' got it a bit wrong."

The lady bubbled with slightly shaky laughter; Gene was reminded of a jovial old schoolteacher. "Your partner must be a smart lady."

"She is. An' she never lets me bloody forget it."

The woman chuckled properly; one of the men wearing balaclavas turned, giving the pair evils before going back to watching the cars clustered around the post office, people flitting in and out of the line of fire.

"You need to get back to her."

"Oh, I'm intendin' ter. Somethin' needs ter 'appen soonish, or she'll come burstin' in, 'er or my daughter. Step-daughter."

"As long as her heart loves you, her genes can come second place," the woman murmured, giving a small smile. "Isn't that your name? Gene?"

He nodded, his eyes darting from the men to the entrance to the little glimpse of the Quattro he could see, gleaming bright red in the harsh light from the sun. A plan began to formulate in his head.

"Er, yer wouldn' mind a little damage ter the shop fer us ter get out, would yer?"

She shook her head.

"Anything to get out of this living hell, Gene."

Gene smiled, his eyes finding the pipe leading to the ceiling. Several pipes were going across the ceiling above them, held on only by flimsy wooden clasps, covered in dust and spider webs, looking none too stable.

"What're those pipes fer?"

"They were part of our hot-water system, but we disconnected them years ago. We just left them there. Why, what... oh!"

Clearly, her mind was as sharp as the fragments of glass littering the ground around her. Gene nodded, inclining his head to the other side of the shop.

"Yer throw somethin' over there ter distract 'em, an' I'll try my best ter get the pipes down. Lots o' dust, lots o' confusion, an' we'll be able ter slip out an' the boys from Regional can come in an' arrest this lot. Get out, stop the partner worryin' an' get back ter CID. OK?"

The woman nodded, her hands scrabbling around and eventually finding an old pen under the carpet. Her tongue stuck out slightly as she took aim, going for the window to smash it and cause maximum chaos.

Her arm blurred as she threw.

And then it was pandemonium, and everyone was screaming; Gene grasped the postmistress' arm as they picked themselves up and headed towards the entrance, ducking their way through the dust, only to find themselves surrounded by coughing hostage takers.

"Not so fast!" their leader yelled, grabbing Gene by the collar. Gene struggled, yanking his way free, coughing hard as he ducked behind the till to avoid a bullet. Most of the guns had jammed because of the thick dust.

Someone yelled a swear word from outside as a young girl ran into the shop.

* * *

As soon as the dust had engulfed the shop, Molly's patience had run out. She'd been watching Gene's eyes flicking from side to side, obviously coming up with a plan, and waiting with increasing impatience for him to do something.

When the dust had come, she'd snapped and run in, despite Chris' grabbing at her to try and stop her.

And suddenly there were strong arms, strangers' arms, as they grabbed her and forced a gun against her neck; breathing became difficult, and she could feel her pulse beating against the cool, smooth metal, rapid and erratic. Gene's eyes were brimfull of horror as they met hers, horror and anger and terror.

"No... Molls, what the 'ell d'yer think yer doin'?"

Molly shook her head jerkily, her eyes filling with tears.

"Gene, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry."

Gene clenched his jaw, and Molly forced back tears; something clicked behind her, and she closed her eyes, thinking her life was over, she was gone for the second time...

"What the fuck?"

The man clicked the trigger again, puzzlement clear on his face. The gun had jammed with all the thick dust in the air.

Gene didn't miss a beat in clambering up and knocking him out with an elbow to the head.

The rest began to fire on the pair, seeing the danger, only to find that none of them had a working firearm; the crew outside almost forgot to arrest them, they were laughing so hard at the sight of the armed robbers trying and failing to fire their guns, swearing as they opened them to find thick layers of dust all through the inner workings.

"Someone needs to brush up on their dusting skills, eh? The missus would be shocked," became the joke of the day as the robbers were escorted to police vans.

Gene looked down at his step-daughter, giving her a long and heavy hug before looking straight down at her, a new emotion in his eyes: parental fury.

"Get in the Quattro, Molly. We'll talk about this back at the station."

* * *

A/N: Aaaaand Molly's in trouble. Again. So like her mother xD Hope you liked it, and please please please remember to review! Jazzola :)


	15. Consequences

They rode back to CID in silence. Molly was fidgeting, peeling her nails with her hands in her lap; Gene's eyes were flinty as they flicked from Molly to the road, his own hands shaking as they rested on the steering wheel. Just for a second, he'd thought he was going to lose Molly; he'd almost been sick where he stood. As soon as she was free and safe, the nausea had turned into pure fury and he'd had to resist the urge to kick something. What the bloody hell had she been doing?

Ray and Chris, squashed in the back with Shaz, remained silent. Shaz was trying to brush the dust off her and Chris' clothes without elbowing Ray, and Chris was watching for signs that Gene was going to lay into Molly back at the station. He'd seen the fright in Gene's expression, pure desperation and terror and fury; he knew how deeply his Guv cared for the girl.

"Ray, Chris, Shaz, go an' get statements from eye-witnesses an' our little friends. I'll do mine in a while. Need ter 'ave a word wi' Molly first. Yer lot can come later."

They nodded, eager to be away from the line of fire, and scarpered into the interview rooms.

"Gene-" Molly started, but he cut her off with an abrupt shake of his head, taking her shoulder and leading her through into his office, his jaw set with anger. Molly looked down at the floor.

"Right. What did yer think yer were doin' walkin' inter an 'ostage situation like yer did? Yer could've been killed, yer could've been seriously 'urt. Yer were meant ter stay in the station! There is a reason I don' take yer on calls, Molly!"

Molly sniffed, a couple of tears falling onto the floor. Gene continued, relentless, bending down slightly to be on her level.

"Yer stupidity put my life in jeopardy, plus the life o' a member o' the public. Yer were incredibly rash ter do what yer did, an' yer were goin' straight inter the line of a gun! If they 'adn't jammed, think what would've 'appened. Yer stupid girl!"

"BUT I COULDN'T JUST STAND THERE AND WAIT FOR YOU TO DIE!"

Gene stepped back abruptly, his eyes widening as Molly yelled in his face, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"WHAT AM I MEANT TO DO, JUST SIT THERE UNTIL I HEAR THE GUNSHOT? I'VE LOST MY MUM BEFORE AND I AM NOT GOING TO LOSE ANYONE ELSE I LOVE, EVER AGAIN, NOT IF I CAN HELP IT!"

Molly's throat was raw from her screaming; Gene grabbed hold of her arms and pushed her down onto a chair, standing above her, watching her chest juddering as she sobbed. A tiny part regretted what he'd said, wanted to simply pick her up and hold her close, but he knew that if he was going to be her dad, he had to tell her off as well as be kind to her. What she'd done was incredibly idiotic, and could have got her killed, and she would have to be punished- but she did it for a valid reason. His heart thudded as he prepared his next words.

"Yer'll be cleanin' the 'ouse fer two weeks," he said quietly, his eyes on hers. "No goin' out wi' yer friends, or any more treats. Straight 'ome from school. Yer can explain what yer did ter yer mum an' apologise ter 'er. An' before yer start on 'ow scared yer were fer me, think what I felt like when yer were bein' 'eld at gunpoint in front o' my eyes. I would've gladly given myself up ter be shot ter save yer, Molly. The thin' any parent fears most is what 'appened ter yer today. Don' think fer a second yer were the only one scared today fer someone they care about a lot."

Molly pressed her lips together hard, nodding, letting a tear drip off the end of her nose. Gene reached out to her, picking up a tissue from his desk and wiping the tears away, pulling her off the chair and into his arms as she cried out her last few tears and sniffed determinedly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, hugging him tight. "I was just so scared."

"Thank yer," he murmured back, his own hold on her tightening. "Don' think butterin' me up's goin' ter get yer off yer sentence, though. I mean it, an' it'll be enforced. Yer understand?"

She nodded, wiping her nose on Gene's tie. He made a displeased noise, but left it.

"Right then. I'll leave yer ter call yer mother an' explain what yer did. I'll be givin' my team a little lecture if yer need me."

Giving her one last squeeze, his heart aching at the thought of losing her, Gene walked out of CID and towards the interview rooms, wiping his tie as soon as he was out of Molly's line of sight. Maybe he could pass it off as the design.

* * *

"I have to know what's happening with the hostage situation!"

"Calm down, DI Drake. We're trying to get through to DCI Hunt's office now. The phone lines have been damaged by this morning's storm. Sooner or later, you'll be able to speak to somebody."

"Ma'am!" one of the DCs called from the small meeting room, motioning to the TV, showing BBC News. Alex hurried over, staring at the screen as grainy footage of a dusty shop front, filled with shadowy figures, came up.

Her heart nearly stopped as a very familiar young girl ran in and was instantly collared by one of the figures.

Steadying herself on the table, Alex watched with her heart in her mouth as the figure pressed on the trigger... but no gunshot echoed through the TV set. The DC had to stop her collapsing onto the floor as Gene's silhouette knocked the stranger out and several people standing around began to laugh as they saw that the guns were all jammed by the thick dust in the shop.

"DI Drake, we have a phone call. From someone called Molly, wanting to talk to you?"

Alex turned and stared at the phone the porter was holding, her eyes flashing as she looked up at him and then back to the phone. The young man began to sweat.

"D-DI Drake...?"

"Thank you," Alex said in clipped tones, stepping forwards to take the phone. "Please cover your ears."

Confused, the people around her did so. Alex held the phone up to her head and took a long, deep breath.

"MOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLYYYYYYY!"

* * *

Molly's spirits were definitely low. She'd had a major ear-bashing from both her mum and dad, the rest of the team were in trouble because of her- she could hear Gene yelling at them in one of the interview rooms, using phrases such as "failing ter keep a little girl in line", "stupid bloody excuses fer police officers" and "if this 'appens again yer bollocks will be nailed ter trees faster than yer can say "soprano""- and she was cleaning the house for the next two weeks, which she would bet money on also meant getting the hairs out of the shower plughole. And to top it off, she'd frightened the shit out of Gene. Again.

She had expected screaming, shouting, maybe even for him to hit her, although she knew inside he wouldn't touch a hair on her head. Not the quiet, awful anger that had made it ten times worse.

Something inside her made her turn and begin to organise Gene's desk, keeping her mind away from what might have happened that day; a radio somewhere began to play "Video Killed The Radio Star" and she sang along, swinging her hips as she carried papers to Gene's filing cabinets and tidied his store of whisky, only turning when his voice cut through her rendition.

"Rather not be talkin' about people gettin' killed, Molly."

She nodded silently, turning to see a smile on his face despite his words.

"Yer got a good voice, though. Take after yer mum. Right little duet, yer'd be."

A little blush crept up her cheeks as she remembered singing along to "Sexy Back" with her mother back in their old life, wiggling their hips in time and collapsing in laughter when they'd finished. She thought about her mother sharing that special laugh with Gene and, to her surprise, didn't feel any resentment at all for it. In fact, she felt pleasure.

"Come on. I'm bunkin' off early, the rest o' my bunch o' idiots can keep this place in line. Yer can start yer cleanin'."

And then his arms were right round her once again, his chin resting on the crown of her head, and she swore she heard him murmur "I love you, Molls," before he drew away and pulled the Quattro keys out, heading for the doors.

* * *

A/N: I'm sorry, but if I did something like that I would probably be grounded for the rest of my life, so Molly got a bit told off :L Hope you liked it, and please remember to review! Thanks for reading! Jazzola :D


	16. Spiders, Mothers and Knickers

Molly gritted her teeth as she reached down in the plughole, drawing out a gory assortment of hairs in her fingertips and throwing them into a bucket with a retching sound. Gene, next door, called to her to keep the tiles as clean as she could and she yelled a tired reply back, hearing him laughing with her mother on the phone.

_What I wouldn't give to just be in there laughing with them, and for today not to have happened._

But it had happened, and she'd finally learned the lesson she should have learnt in 2008: never follow your parent to a crime scene, because something bad will come of it. She reached further and her fingers found a spider, crouched between the drain and the wall; she screamed and leapt up, running through to Gene and grabbing him, her heart thudding nineteen to the dozen as her mind conjured up images of black widows scrabbling across the carpets to leap on her...

"Molls, Molls, it was an 'ouse spider, nothin' ter be scared of!" Gene sighed, cutting through her yelps and gently disentangling himself from her, murmuring "be right back" to Alex and dropping the phone next to the cradle.

"Speak for yourself," Molly whimpered, her hands curled up and clutched to her chest as Gene headed through into the bathroom to get rid of their eight-legged guest, Molly standing a little way back and watching with wide eyes as he crouched next to the drain and tentatively put his hands down.

"AAH!" he yelled suddenly, yanking his hands away, prompting a scream from Molly as she ran forwards only to see him shaking with laughter.

"Sorry, Molls, couldn't resist," he grinned, holding up his hands, coccooning the spider between them. Molly hit his shoulder, groaning.

"Dad!"

He pushed himself up on his elbows, both hands still trapping the spider, which was doubling its efforts to get out and back into the safety of the drain. Molly backed away sharpish.

"'S alright, Molls, 'e's more scared o' yer than yer are of 'im."

Molly severely doubted it, but moved forwards to glimpse the arachnid between her step-dad's fingers. Eight eyes glared out at her for a second and she shrieked, running back again.

"Big one, this," Gene muttered to himself, quietly sizing the thing up. No wonder Molly had freaked out, it had to be the size of his hand spread out when it was just sitting there. Even he felt a little less than comfortable holding it, and from what he could remember from geography, lions could kill spiders very comfortably.

As he opened the door to put the spider out, he encountered Mandy Skelton, stood just outside his door and about to ring; she screamed and ran to shelter behind the Quattro, looking rather like her son in her fright. Gene hurriedly disposed of the creature and headed back in to wash his hands, leaving Molly to welcome Mandy in, both women exaggerating wildly about the size of the spider until Gene came through and gave them a no-nonsense look, at which point it became "about the size of Gene's hand" rather than "like one of those bird-eating spiders".

"Yer didn' just come 'ere ter complain about spiders, I'm sure, Mandy. Anythin' yer wanted ter talk about?"

Mandy nodded.

"Well, I- I wanted first ter apologise ter yer about what 'appened wi' Molly. I should've gone wi' 'er, I mean, that shop was difficult ter find at the best o' times. Second, I just wanted ter know if yer wanted me ter try lookin' after 'er again tomorrow?"

"Thanks fer the offer, but Madam Bolls is back tomorrow, so no need."

Hearing one of Alex's many nicknames reminded Gene that he was still on the phone to the woman herself; hurriedly excusing himself and all but running up the stairs, he headed into the bedroom and left Mandy and Molly to it.

"I'd better be gettin' back, actually, Molls," Mandy said, heaving herself to her feet and making towards the door. Molly opened it politely for her, hearing Gene laughing from upstairs just as Mandy headed back out into the cold. The woman tipped her head back to hear it, a smile coating her own face at the sound.

"Yer so good fer 'im, yer an' yer mum, Molls. 'E was so down before yer arrived, kept 'imself ter 'imself an' didn' ever seem ter be 'appy. Yer've done miracles fer 'im- especially yer, teachin' 'im 'ow ter be a dad, givin' 'im someone ter love unconditionally. Been great fer 'im. Keep up wi' the good work."

And with a smile and a quick pat of Molly's arm, she was gone, heading back towards her own small house with a huge smile on her face, leaving a slightly stunned young girl behind, a grin making its way onto her own features as her step-father's laughter echoed down the stairs towards her.

* * *

"Got everythin' packed?"

"Everything down to the lacy French knickers. Why, Gene, you worried I'll leave something behind?"

Gene smiled on the other end.

"Well, I don' think it's a good idea fer yer ter leave me lookin' after Molls while yer go back ter fetch somethin'."

"Bullshit. You've been brilliant, she says so herself."

"She's cleanin' the 'ouse fer two weeks, I 'ave a feelin' she was worried about incurrin' more of a punishment by not praisin' me."

"I'm certain you didn't use words like "incurring" before I arrived," Alex teased gently. "And no, she was telling the truth. Add to that that you've learned how to be cruel to be kind- giving her a punishment for doing wrong. She was beginning to think you were a bit of a soft touch."

"The Manc Lion, a soft touch? No." Pause. "Did she?"

"Yes," Alex laughed, almost seeing his pout on the other end of the line. Thinking about it made her feel homesick. "I can't wait to be home."

"Can't wait fer yer ter be 'ome. I don' know the first thing about cleanin', dunno if the sprog's usin' polish or washin' powder."

"The clue's in the scent."

"Gene Hunt does not go around sniffin' packets o' bloody cleanin' stuff!"

"Nor does he do children or dancing, apparently. You won't win this one, Gene. Oh gosh, I have to go, last conference starts in about five minutes. God damn whoever made this schedule, I'll have to sleep all day tomorrow."

"I volunteer my services carryin' yer 'ome. Wear somethin' skimpy."

"Typical. I really have to go now, give my love to Molls. Bye, Gene."

"Bye, Bolly-Kecks."

* * *

Molly smiled as she heard the phone being put down and Gene clomping along the hallway to put the shower drain back together. Gene would call her when he was done and she was supposed to get into bed; until then, she had to keep cleaning.

A flash of pink behind the sofa caught her eye, and she moved forwards, crouching down to find out what it was. Her breath caught in her throat as she recognised them as a pair of her mother's skimpiest knickers, lying innocently behind the sofa, slightly torn on one side.

Stifling laughter, Molly hurried away into the kitchen, resolving to tease her mother about it when she got home.

* * *

A/N: Ta-da! Hope you enjoyed it. Please remember to review! Thanks, Jazzola :)


	17. Bad Dreams

_Gene can only just see what is around him; the world is blurred, a haze of white wall and crimson fabric. He is covered in red; it takes him a second to realise that it is trapping him, holding him in place as his eyes flash from scene to scene._

_His own body tumbling away from the road, slammed back by the lorry, only this time he is lying face down on the tarmac as Molly runs towards him, screaming his name, shaking his shoulder to try and rouse him; a pool of blood slowly forms round him, and Molly bends her head, shaking with sobs over his inanimate body._

_As he struggles, a new image flies into his line of sight: they are back at the races, in the stands, but this time Molly leans too far over the barrier and he is too late snatching her back, and she falls, a crack resonating through the air as she lands on her neck beneath him, her small, broken body oblivious to his screams as he tries to run to her, but something still holding him in place as blood gushes from Molly's head._

_Molly abruptly fades to reveal the Super, laying into Gene's defenceless body as he tries to cover his head, the rest of CID descending on the Superintendent as he coughs up blood onto the carpet, one fist clenching on the black and white tiles as the Super is pulled away and Molly crouches next to him, tears flowing down her young face as someone grabs a telephone._

_And then his daughter is back, held at gunpoint by a faceless maniac as he is pinned in place by the restraints, Mandy Skelton screaming in the background as a shot is fired and Molly's yells still, her face going blank as her blood drains over Gene's body, warm and repulsive, her life liquid flowing freely as he shuts his eyes tight, trying to block out the scene; it is imprinted on his eyelids, never to be escaped from, and he knows it will stay there._

_As soon as it blacks away, he is back in the post office, with a gun trained on his Molly, her eyes wide and frightened as bile rises in his throat, terror engulfing him as their gazes meet, just for a second, before the all too familiar sound bursts into his ears and the tang of gunpowder sneaks into his nostrils as Molly bleeds on the floor, no movement at all in her young body, her eyes wide and blank as dust swirls round her and Ashes to Ashes plays quietly in the background._

_"Molly... no... NO..."_

"No... NO!"

Gene's eyes opened, sweat running down into them from his forehead as he blinked rapidly, trying to clear his eyesight. The white wall and crimson fabric were in front of him, but now he recognised them as the wall of his bedroom and the duvet on the bed, which was wound tightly around him, not affording him any space to move at all.

_Bloody 'ell. No peace anywhere any more._

The bedside clock told him it was five past three in the morning; he could hear Molly shifting in the next room and prayed he hadn't woken her up. The images of his nightmare were still there, and he hated it: the Manc Lion didn't get nightmares, he just didn't, he couldn't. He had to be strong.

"Dad?"

Gene looked up, still tangled in the duvet, his face pale and sweat droplets running down from his hairline. Molly was stood there, just like after the lorry incident, clutching her duvet and watching him as he shakily disentangled himself from the bedclothes and faced her.

"Sorry, Molls. Yer go back ter bed, I'm fine."

"But you were yelling... all sorts," Molly finished lamely, trying not to break eye contact with her step-father. Gene shook his head.

"Really. Just... the job. Makes yer think of stupid stuff."

"You were saying about me. That I was dying and that they had to stop it."

Gene shook his head again, sending droplets of liquid onto the pillow. He cringed inwardly at how he must look, the big tough DCI of Fenchurch East reduced to a little boy having bad dreams.

"Yer need yer sleep, yer mum's told me ter get yer some schoolbooks so yer can keep up with yer studies an' yer need ter be awake ter read 'em."

"Dad, please, tell me what's going on. Let me in."

Gene almost laughed out loud at her words, remembering her mother saying the exact same thing what felt like so long ago in his office. Molly walked forwards, sitting down on the edge of the bed and using Gene's duvet to dab at his forehead. He gently took it off her, running his hand over his skin and wiping it on the scarlet fabric.

"Molls, go back ter bed. 'S no good both of us being awake at stupid o'clock just because o' somethin' stupid my sub-conscious thought was a good idea."

"Can't sleep," Molly replied, shuffling over to cuddle up to him. "Keep having nightmares about the hostage thing in the post office. If their guns hadn't jammed... or if they'd shot you... I don't know which would've been preferable."

"Me goin', o' course. Now shush. If yer not goin' back ter bed yer can at least let me get some rest."

"What, and leave me and Mum here to deal with it? No way."

Gene felt a little warmth spreading through him, but quickly quashed it, simply putting an arm round her and easing her back to lie down.

"Shush now, Molls."

She obliged, resting her head by his arm, breathing in the smell of whisky and stale cigarette smoke that would have repulsed her before but now just made her feel safer than almost anything else. A little hint of her mother's scent found its way to her senses and she smiled, imagining the bear hug she would give her mother later that day.

The last thing she thought before she slipped into sleep was, _Gene is really bad at keeping up the tough man act when he's not around CID._

* * *

Alex lay with her head on her arms in the hotel room, reliving the last couple of days in her head. The TV sat innocently a little way away; she remembered the news broadcast and winced, turning away and getting a noseful of mozzarella and basil pasta.

_Knew I should've ordered something a little less pungent that night._

She picked up her bag from the seat next to the bed, pulling out her reserves of make-up and hair things to find the photographs secured at the bottom. One of Gene in CID, taken without his knowledge when everyone else had gone home; he was sitting there with his trademark pout on his lips, staring into space almost dreamily, eyes half-closed, his relaxation endearing. Then one of the two of them together, some identification thing taken by a police photographer, the two of them in the Quattro; she laughed out loud at the grumpy look on Gene's face, and the smile on her own seemed a little fixed. Then Molly and Gene together, with her leaning over to see what they were doing; Gene had been wiping some blood off Molly's arm after she came off her bike outside Luigi's and went into him. She was laughing in the picture, as Gene was lying on the floor with blood staining the elbows of his suit and yet he was diligently attending to his young step-daughter. _Always thinking of others, always._

The bed beckoned to her, and she lay down on its smooth surface, imagining Gene's strong arm round her, Molly's hair tickling her face.

_Tomorrow, Alex. Tomorrow._

* * *

A/N: Hope you like it! This is the second to last chapter, only one more to go. Please, please, please remember to review- please? Jazzola :)


	18. Completion

Alex shoved a load of her tops in the suitcase, not caring about creasing them, flattening them as best she could to make way for the things she'd bought on her brief shopping trip in Belfast. It had been nice to sample some of the more local fashion, although it was all very 80s wherever you went. For a second, she remembered footless tights and loose tunics and beaded poncho jackets with a twinge of longing, but as she looked down at the purple batwing top and bright blue high heels in her suitcase she dismissed it. 2008 fashion would come when it would.

Turning to look at her reflection in the mirror, she smiled. She'd picked out her tightest jeans for the trip home, Gene's favourites, and a classic white polka-dot blouse with a white vest underneath for decency. The usual high heels adorned her feet, with her toes painted red to match. Her lightly curled hair bounced on her shoulders; it'd grown out since she'd had it cut in the hospital. The glossy sheen of the mirror showed a woman who had been through tough times and come out the other side happier than ever, with people to love.

A knock on the door brought her out of her daydream, and she turned, opening it to find the young PC she remembered from the news bulletin on the siege standing nervously a little way away.

"Er, the chef sent this up for your journey, madam."

He scarpered before she could even thank him, evidently remembering her harpy-like screech at Molly only the day previously. Laughing to herself, Alex took the breaded ham and cheese sandwiches in to pack them, pouring herself some water from the fountain in the room and checking that everything was packed, as Gene would say, "down to the posh French knickers".

The clock told her sternly but silently that it was time she was checking out, unless she wanted to miss her train to the dock and her route back to Gene and Molly. Smiling, she picked up her things and headed out, closing the door gently behind her, striding towards the reception desk with a smile on her face.

* * *

"Molls!"

Molly groaned sleepily into her pillow, hearing Gene's call from downstairs. It was twelve and she still hadn't bothered to get out of bed; Gene had left her there, letting her catch up on sleep. She'd only dropped off in the early hours of the morning due to her nightmares.

She remembered Gene's all too clearly; the harrowing shouts of "no, not 'er, not Molls, kill me, 'urt me instead!" She was in no doubt that he would mean it. Silently praying to herself that she never found herself in a situation like that, she dragged herself up, running a brush through her long hair and yanking on a shirt and jeans and heading down the stairs to see Gene on the sofa eating toast.

"Started yer cleanin' yet?"

"Oh, Dad... one day off?" Molly pleaded, sitting down next to him and trying to steal his other piece of toast, stopping when she saw it was marmalade, the perfect Molly-repellant. Gene always said it reminded him of beer; Molly said it reminded her of mouse droppings.

"No. Absolutely not. Yer can start by wipin' the surfaces, thanks ter yer mother the toaster's leaked crumbs all over the surface."

"Why, what did she do?"

"'Elpfully didn' tell me that when she dropped it last week the side 'ad come off. 'Ave ter get a new one now."

"It's ancient anyway," Molly complained, standing up and heading through, grabbing a dustpan and brush to start and then dropping them onto the sofa, heading back through to hug Gene.

"Sorry, forgot," she giggled at his surprised look, heading back through to clean up the mess.

"What time are we picking Mum up?" she called through as she swept, the gentle rhythmical strokes surprisingly soothing. Gene checked his watch.

"Another hour yet. Yer own fault fer bein' disorientated, yer couldn' be bothered ter get up."

Molly sighed, tired from her lie-in; she couldn't fathom why she hadn't woken up sooner, it was completely unlike her to wake up so late. A clumsy stroke caught her finger on the side of the toaster, a sharp edge slicing through her skin, and she yelped, dancing back and sticking her finger in her mouth as Gene abandoned his toast and headed through to find out what the matter was.

"Come 'ere, Molly-Knickers," he said gently, picking up a plaster and some cream from the crowded tabletop and beckoning her over. Molly watched him bandaging her up, only realising after a second or so that she had a new nickname.

"Molly-Knickers? Not Molly-Kecks?"

Gene glanced sideways at her, quickly diverting his attention back to her finger, his tongue poking out slightly as he concentrated. Molly smiled at it.

"Oh, by the way, I found the knickers. Behind the sofa."

Gene swerved up to stare at her, red rising in his cheeks as Molly convulsed with laughter at the sight of the Manc Lion caught out like an embarrassed schoolboy.

"You could've at least avoided tearing them!"

"That's enough, Molls," Gene sighed, but there was no real discipline in his voice and he left her to her own devices quickly, heading back out to the lounge. Molly carried on with the cleaning, grinning to herself all the while.

"Well, yer goin' ter get some shoes on?"

She turned to see Gene flicking up the lapels of his Crombie coat, pushing one foot into a snakeskin boot and watching her all the while.

"What?"

"Well, I get the feelin' yer mother might be a bit cranky if she 'as ter walk back from the station 'erself."

Molly smiled, abandoning the dustpan and brush, crumbs spilling everywhere as she ran upstairs, laughing quietly.

She didn't notice Gene ferreting in his pocket, checking a small something was secure before grabbing the Quattro keys and heading out ahead.

* * *

The signs on the station proclaimed that the locomotive had just found its way to "Fenchurch East" as Alex stood up, cramped from hours in her small seat, desperate to see Gene and Molly again. Her luggage stood to attention next to her as she reached out to grasp the handle and headed for the nearest door, stepping out as it opened, gathering her things about her and waiting for Gene and Molly to approach.

They didn't seem to be anywhere.

Frowning, Alex started walking forwards, searching for them with her frowning gaze, her fingernails tapping on the suitcase handle as she stopped halfway through the station, turning a full circle before putting her things down and sighing. Gene wouldn't be late, no way. Something had happened, maybe... oh God, had they crashed? Had there been a problem with the Quattro or something? Was one of them ill? Had something happened to one of them?

A million and one scenarios swirled in Alex's head until an elderly lady walked past with a smile on her face.

"By the entrance, love," she said quietly, vanishing before Alex had the chance to speak to her.

Alex picked her things up, walking towards the entrance, scanning round still. Her eye finally caught a familiar flash of red, and she smiled, her step quickening as her heart thudded with anticipation.

Molly screamed as she saw her mother, grabbing Gene and pulling him forwards, jumping on her mother before he could even get close to her. Alex lifted Molly into a massive hug, feeling tears leaking from her eyes as she held her little girl as close as she could, squeezing her hard and whispering how much she loved her over and over again. Gene moved in to put his arm round Alex's waist and was tugged into a group hug by both women, giving Alex a kiss on the cheek and reaching down to squeeze her rear slightly, earning himself a laugh and a slap on the arse from her. Molly wolf-whistled.

"Cheeky," Alex laughed, letting Molly down and looking at her levelly, still holding onto her hand.

"Your punishment is still going on for a while more, you know that?"

Molly nodded, not looking at all abashed, turning as Gene tried and failed to take something surreptitiously out of his pocket.

"Bolly..."

"Yes, Gene?" Alex asked, turning to look into thin air.

"Er, down 'ere."

She looked down to see him on one knee, hovering just above the ground to avoid the merciless gravel, holding out a small red box containing a gleaming, intricate, exquisite diamond and ruby ring in one hand, his brilliant eyes pleading as they fixed themselves on hers. For a moment, her heart seemed to stop.

And then it was beating again, so ferociously she almost collapsed onto Gene.

"Bolly, I- will you do me the wonderful pleasure o' becomin' my wife?"

Alex looked down first at the ring, then back into his eyes, and threw herself into his arms on the tarmac with a squeal of "yes, yes, yes, YES, Gene!"

Several people around them burst into applause and Molly started crying as they both got up, with a little bit of effort on Gene's part, and simply held each other, no need for a kiss, just craving each other's proximity.

Alex felt something cool slipping onto her finger as she stared into Gene's eyes, and looked down to see the ring adorning her finger, a perfect fit (she suspected he'd taken one of her rings with him to the shop), looking as though it had always belonged there. His lips pressed gently against her forehead as she felt it, looking back up at him with a smile so big it almost hid the rest of her face, pulling him in for a proper kiss and stroking his arm with her newly-ringed hand, brimfull of marvellous happiness and adoration.

"Yes, I will marry you, Gene Hunt," she murmured against his lips, feeling his smile as he ducked his head once again to meet hers.

As she drew her head away, the light shone on her curled hair, and just for a second Gene imagined it was covered in gleaming white ribbons, streaming about her face and onto her slender shoulders.

He was wrong before. He had never been happier than he was now.

* * *

A/N: Extra-long chapter to end on there- hope you liked it, and sorry for the delay! Thank you for sticking with me all the way to the end if you have, and I sincerely hope you have enjoyed it. Please don't forget to review! The sequel is right here: .net/s/6854879/1/ Thanks for reading! Jazzola :D


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